


Symbiosis

by needleyecandy



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Abortion, Blood, Drunk Sex, Fuck Or Die, Intersex Loki, M/M, Mpreg, Needles, Postpartum Depression, Rimming, Thor is a come factory and no one can tell me otherwise, Vaginal Sex, attempted miscarriage, come fixation, noncon discussed but doesn't occur, reinvention of society, somnophilia discussed but doesnt occur, terrible science, world's least graphic childbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Ice Age came to Asgard, the people moved underground, going above just long enough to tend the few crops that could still live. When the Jotnar came to live above and share their harvests, both their peoples benefited. When it was discovered how the Aesir could give back, providing the protein the Jotnar digestive system could never manage to wring from plants, their cultures and peoples become inseparable. </p><p>Inseparable, that is, until the day Loki ran away, and Thor followed. The aftermath of their decision will change both their cultures forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ronithemacaroni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ronithemacaroni/gifts).



> A few weeks ago, I thought to myself, "Hey, it's Saturday afternoon, I'll write a nice little pwp with butt plugs." What resulted is nice enough, I hope, but it's not little and there's much more plot than porn. Also, the astute reader will notice the lack of butt plugs in the tags. 
> 
> The first two chapters are mostly background and action, there will be more dialogue after that.
> 
> Enjoy!

It hadn't always been like this. In fact, it had happened recently enough that some of the books in the library had been written before the change, and not just those that were hidden away and protected for their age. But it had happened, and with each generation that did not put things back the way they had been, it seemed less likely that they ever would. 

Nor was it a bad way of living, compared to what they knew of some realms. But it was unique. 

It was strange to think that the Aesir and the Jotnar had once been strangers. Thor used to look at the pictures in those old books when he was little, and Frigga would read to him of the time when their peoples were unknown to one another. It was strange to think that had he lived then, he would never have known Loki. It seemed impossible. 

When the cold first covered Asgard, the people had moved underground to live, venturing up to the surface just long enough to tend the few crops that could still survive in such a climate. They grew desperate as the population shrank. That was when a Jotun explorer came across the realm. To him it was pleasant - nearly tropical, compared to Jotunheim. He found the farmers and he was confused at their heavy clothing until they took him below. It was so warm that he felt languid before they even had off their protective layers. They were able to speak with one another, after a fashion. 

He was taken to the king. "Great king," he said, bowing. "I am Bjarni, of Jotunheim. Our realm is cold and barren, compared to yours. I believe our people could find a balance in our lives, a new way of shared prosperity. I will not speak to my king without your good word, for I have no wish to lose my head. But tell me: would you look with favor upon a Jotun settlement on the surface, were we to share our harvests with you?" 

King Asvald, Thor's nine-times great grandfather, had bowed his head in acceptance. 

Bjarni returned to Jotunheim, and when he came back to Asgard, he had three ships of settlers with him. They had no need to build a village, merely settling into the houses that had sat abandoned since the coming of the ice. 

They ventured beneath sometimes, staring at the two-gendered Aesir, who stared back at these blue-skinned settlers. They both had a natural curiosity, which made it easy to mingle. To make friends. To take lovers. 

The name of the first Aesir to bed a Jotun has been lost to time, but the Jotun's name passed into legend. Rangolf the Mighty, he became, though he had not been so before. It was his sudden burst of strength that caught everyone's attention. It took perhaps a month to figure out what it was that had done it. 

Protein. The Jotnar knew that they needed it, of course, and worked to breed plants that produced the highest levels possible. But their bodies were not suited to extracting it from these plants, and there was only so much fish to be caught. It seemed there were fewer each year. Oh, but the Aesir. Their digestions managed to rip every bit of it from every bite of grain, every bitter leaf. And it had been given to Rangolf by his Aesir lover, and he had become strong for days. 

Within a decade, Jotunheim was emptied of its people. Everyone had abandoned it and its failing oceans to move to Asgard, desperate for the elixir of strength. The Aesir were quickly outnumbered, and there were fierce debates about how their products would be apportioned. Asvald said nothing, letting the Jotnar work it out for themselves. It was clear that, with the way the Jotnar continued to farm for them so willingly, that there was no question of any Aesir man refusing to provide in return. 

Researchers were dragged into it, sometimes unwillingly. Parents, naturally enough, demanded to know if it would benefit their children as they grew. The results of their experiments (on adult volunteers, let it be noted) found that this particular orally provided protein was absorbed scarcely better than that from their other foods. Thankfully, that ended any discussion of providing it to children. The researchers, though, being who they were, continued their experiments until they had determined the best mode of provision. Vaginal absorption was found to be significantly better - as, indeed, had been demonstrated by Rangolf. The best method by far, though, was rectal administration. It could be plugged and retained far more efficiently, remaining within until every bit had soaked straight into the bloodstream and given an infusion of vigor. 

Sigurd, the Jotun king, at last issued his decision. The highest members of the nobility would be paired with their own Aesir man, who would provide for them. Those who were lower but still titled would share, three or four to one Aesir. Those Aesir who were unassigned would provide their offerings into a general lot, which would be distributed equally among all the commoners. The children would be given all the fish. It kept them well enough until the time they moved on to more adult sources. 

It was a time of adjustment for the Aesir, particularly the highborn ones who had been personally matched. For the first time, they envied the commoners who were simply expected to fill a jar two or three nights a week. Not that it was exactly easy for the Jotnar, either, but when they gained strength and energy such as they had never known, they learned to accept. 

It took a generation for this attitude to shift, for the task to go from duty to pleasure. By the time Asvald's son, Gunnbjorn, rose to the throne, he was said to be as attached to Sigurd's child Karli as he was to his wife. Not all remained lovers, of course. Many, when they wed, went over to the jars. But they remained lifelong friends, and these friendships solidified the bond between their peoples. By the time Gunnbjorn's son Berg took the throne, the little jars had become common wedding gifts. 

And so it had remained for many generations, until our story at last returns to Thor and Loki. They had been an obvious match - heirs to the thrones were not always paired, because it was deemed appropriate that matches be of similar ages - but the two were scarcely a year apart and they were equal in their royalty. 

They had been brought together often as they grew up, taking turns between a bundled Thor romping in the snow near Loki's home and a barely-dressed Loki swimming in the vast lake beyond the underground palace. They were both monitored closely, waiting for them to reach a level of development at which they could begin to participate in their peoples' fair exchange. 

Thor had been taught what he was to do, what he was not to do, and how to prepare Loki to receive him without pain for their first time together. He had been given books filled with illustrations, the gilded pictures weaving their magic as he watched and learned. It had been impressed upon him that due to Loki's small size, he must be considerably more careful than in the tales he may have heard from the older boys. From that moment on, Loki would spend the rest of his life with an ornamented plug inside him, holding him open and ready to receive, holding in Thor's spend. It would be removed only to receive more, and at carefully scheduled times to relieve himself without wasting what should be kept. 

While most Jotnar could simply shop for a plug they liked, all those in the stores were far too large for the small prince. A metalsmith –thankfully one of his own people, who treated the matter with reasonable decorum, rather than a vulgar dwarf - was brought in to consult with him, to learn his favored designs and colors. Loki blushed with shame when he was measured for the fit. His blush deepened when he was told that Thor's body had been measured, as well, to ensure that Loki was kept in readiness. At least they did not specify which part, though Loki knew very well. 

Thor was visiting above the day it was delivered. Loki was mortified. Thor treated it in a matter-of-fact manner, which was the kindest thing he could do as the metalsmith’s assistant stood brandishing it in the air before them. 

“…and you will see,” said the assistant, oblivious to the death stares Loki was sending him, “that the dimensions are a perfect compromise between your small size, my lord, and your girth, sir,” he finished, nodding to Thor. 

“The gold and emerald will look well with your shading,” Thor said. He could have been speaking of a necklace or a ring just as easily. 

Thor was the only part of all this Loki didn’t hate. At least the old ceremonies, where a party gathered to watch as a pair were joined for the first time, had gone out of fashion. It was bad enough that he would have to be seen with the strange, shuffling walk that spoke of a first-fed Jotun learning to adjust to the intrusion within. It wasn't even as though it were viewed as something shameful; indeed, just two generations ago it had been the style in court to exaggerate the slight limp of the freshly filled. No, it was merely that Loki wished this to be private. Had he been born common, no one would care, but the health and vigor of the prince was a matter of public concern. 

Loki tried talking to Thor about it, but that proved to be of little use. Thor's instinctual reaction to any problem was to destroy it, which was exactly what he tried to do to Loki's worries. In fairness to Thor, his hammer was powerful enough that most problems could indeed be treated like a nail. 

"But it's none of their business," Loki insisted. "Doesn't it bother you, having everyone know?" 

Thor shrugged. "It's how things work. We can stay in my chambers until you get used to walking, if you want." 

"No. That would be worse," Loki sighed. 

Worse still was when the day came when Thor hoisted his hammer and a bolt of lightning shot to the roof of the cavern. His seidr had come, showing that he was ready, matured enough in body and (it was hoped) mind... and Loki had not. It became a common sight, down below, to see the young prince swagger past the line of commoners waiting to empty their jars into the shared offering. Within a week, he had been given a larger one. The people watched and nodded approvingly. 

The word made its way to the above. With Loki's small stature, the people were eager to see their future king begin receiving his supplements. The whisper began that, after all, it was only Thor who had to be of a certain maturity for them to take up together. People who would never consider such a thing for their own young had no qualms thinking it about the heir. 

The idea - abhorrent and shocking to any even vaguely right-thinking person - should never have become more than a whisper. As it was, the day after the proposal had been presented to the king, the court woke to learn that Loki had disappeared. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tickled at the response to this - thanks, everyone! Enjoy! :D

Two days later, when the news of Loki's disappearance trickled like a rivulet to the kingdom below, Thor put Mjolnir to his hip, a coil of rope over his shoulder, and followed. 

Thor had the advantage; while everyone else searched above, assuming the warmth below would affect Loki as it did the other Jotnar, Thor had seen how (relatively) little it bothered his friend. They had agreed it must be due to his smaller stature. Whatever it was, it gave Thor a head start. He still had to go quickly. Eventually, when the search above failed, it would turn below. Thor did not know what would happen to Loki when he was found, did not know if they would try to force him. Thor knew _he_ never would, but what if they gave Loki to someone else when he refused? The thought was sickening, against everything they had been raised to believe. He and Loki were for each other. Thor had to find him first. 

He started with the lake cavern. It had a ceiling that soared to a jagged peak with sharp gashes in the rock that split it all the way down to the ground. Loki had always wanted to explore those deep fissures, but his escorts had not allowed it. 

The pebbled beach crunched beneath his boots, the echo painfully loud. It was a matter of luck that no one was around to be drawn by the noise, to enter the chamber and see the tall boy skirting the edge of the water. At last he reached the first break in the wall. It was narrow going, but he shoved himself inside until his outstretched fingers met solid stone. He left some skin behind as he squeezed back out. 

Gap after gap he explored to no avail. He had reached the far side and was nearly back to the entrance when he found it. A gap that he entered and did not reach an end. It was tight, painfully tight. It would not have been so for Loki. He forced himself deeper. At the end of an agonizing twist, it opened. 

Thor found himself in a broad plain, looking up at the sky. The air was warm on his skin and the whole thing was utterly unreal. He might have been paralyzed with amazement were it not for the knowledge that Loki would not be. 

Thor looked around, trying to decide which way Loki would have gone. He would not have risked staying near the secret pathway. That far forest, he decided. Loki would have wanted to be able to melt into the deep blue shadows that it cast. 

For the first time, Thor thought about what had brought them to this. Before, it had simply been how life was, just like needing to sleep or wanting to play. Wading through the tall grass on this foreign realm, he felt for the first time the injustice of how Loki had been deemed so dependent on Thor, almost from the day of his birth. At the same time he could not help being grateful; if Loki were not slowly weakened by his need for what Thor had to give, now that he had no fish, Thor's chance of catching up with his friend would be so much slimmer. 

***** 

Loki had started his search around the lake in the opposite direction from the one Thor had taken, and had found a path far beyond his dreams in only the third crevice he tried. He was already drained from making this trip on foot, where before he had always been carried on a litter. 

When he found himself on the same wide plain where Thor would later stumble through, he had to rest. He moved as far as he could from his path before nestling down into the tall grass, pulling some over him in a vain attempt to hide his skin. His blue was so very bright under this bright sun. 

He woke hours later in a panic, the low sun telling all too well how long he had slept. He rose to his feet and forced his exhausted body to run. He had eaten nothing all day, and barely made it to the safety of the forest by nightfall. He spent his first night just inside the treeline, not knowing what might live deeper in. 

The next morning came all too early for the still weary boy. He rolled over and flung an arm across his eyes. The green sparks that trailed from his fingers were bright enough they could not be mistaken or denied. Had he lingered at home one more day, they would have seen it and begun preparing his ceremonial procession, even if the proposal to his father had been rejected. That very night he would have been delivered to the Below, to a feast in Odin's palace and then to Thor's bed. 

_Thor._ His best friend, his intended. Though Loki could not accept all that had been planned for them - the parades, the proudly waving stained sheets, that mortifying _limp_ \- leaving Thor was his one regret. He heaved a sigh. He could have done nothing else. He had tried to explain, and Thor had not understood. 

He spent the first half of the day walking along the forest's edge, sampling the various fruits he found. There were big red balls that hung from the trees, and other trees that looked similar had big yellow teardrops that were even sweeter. Low to the ground he found big juicy red things that were the best of all. Further into the trees grew prickly briars with tart pink things, and these made a delicious contrast with the sweeter fruits. He ate and ate until he could eat no more. At midday, having heard no threatening sounds from deeper in the trees, he took off his shirt, filled it with the red tree fruits, and went in. 

It was slow going, with all the undergrowth grabbing at his clothes, and his body still weary from his quick flight. He wasn't willing to risk further exposure, though. Eventually they would search the below, and someone would follow him through the gap. 

He went deep enough to feel hidden before he let himself rest. Tired hands gathered the fallen leaves into a nest. He woke in the late afternoon just long enough to eat some of his food. Not much, it had to be rationed until he learned the good places to gather more. And it was already clear that the next thing he needed to do was find a place to catch fish. It wouldn't be too bad for a while longer, but once it did get bad... he could not let himself think of what would happen to him if this realm had none for him to find. 

It was while he was halfway through his second piece of fruit (this one so astringent that he felt it in his ears, but he ate it anyway) that he at last took the time to think about something beyond the immediate. It is only natural that he began to cry. Alone on a foreign realm, sleeping on noisy, half-rotten leaves, eating food that was beginning to make knots in his stomach. He found himself wondering if he shouldn't perhaps have given in. Let them do what they wanted with him. Would that really have been worse? He cried himself to sleep, filled with despair and sour apples. 

***** 

Thor made good time across the plain. He had, in the past few years, sprouted taller than Loki, and his longer legs carried him more rapidly through the tall grass. Where Loki had taken all day to reach the forest, Thor did it in barely more than the span of an afternoon. When he reached the edge of the trees, he looked around carefully. It was the first time his lessons in tracking had been anything more than theoretical; the animals his people once hunted were gone from Asgard centuries before his birth. 

To the left, he decided finally, after careful inspection of the trees. Those in that direction seemed to bear fewer fruits within arm's reach, as though someone just a little smaller than Thor had been there first. It wasn't a dramatic difference, but it was the only clue he could find. 

This time he moved more slowly than Loki had in covering the same ground. Every time he came to the slightest break in the brambles he had to stop and look for any sign of trampling. Perhaps every thirty paces he would step back, away from the trees, to make sure that the low-hanging fruit still looked thin. The sun was getting low when he decided he had found the spot. He couldn't be sure; the slight disturbance to the leaves could easily have been put down to wind, but it seemed as though the fruit hung more thickly on one side of the break than the other. He bedded down just inside the forest, seeking the protection of the heavy trees. Thor's first night in this new realm found him perhaps no more than two miles from Loki. 

Hunger woke Loki a little before sunrise. He had a few fruits left, and he ate them greedily. Dawn came quickly, and with it the remembering of his plan to ration his food. But his full belly and the cheerful warmth breaking through the canopy made him abandon both that resolution and any thoughts of return. He laced his shoes back onto his feet and went looking for more. 

Exhaustion took him more quickly today, and he sank down to rest before he could even get back to the edge of the plain. So it was that when Thor made his way into the forest, Loki heard him walking. He stayed low and quiet until the footfalls were too far away to hear any longer. He had not expected them to find this place so quickly. He lowered his hand to his knife and ran his thumb along the hilt. He would not be going back. 

As soon as he felt sure the searcher could not hear his own feet on the brittle leaves, he continued on. Food was first; he darted out from the sheltering woods just long enough to fill his shirt with more fruits before retreating to the shadows. He ate in rapid bursts. Surely these things had not made such a loud crunching yesterday, he thought to himself. 

After eating, draining what energy he could from the sugars, he turned his attention to getting further away. He could move more quickly across the plain, but he didn't like the openness of it. There was no way of knowing how many people were here, searching for him. Slitting his own throat was preferable to being caught, but not by much. At last he decided to risk it. He would run through the grass and rest among the trees, as far as he could go. 

Thor spent hours searching for a clue. It worried him; the longer he was here before he found Loki, the further apart they might become. He had to find Loki before the path between realms was found. It was his duty to protect his friend, until Loki had grown enough to stand for himself. 

The forest was dense enough that Thor simply followed the path of least resistance, hoping that Loki had done the same. He found no signs of trampling to the plants that lined it, and he was beginning to think he ought to turn back and start over from the edge of the wood - the last place he was reasonably sure he had seen a sign - when he found where someone had slept. It had to have been Loki. There was a nestling spot in the fallen leaves that was just the right size. Something red caught his eye and he knelt. A fruit core. An apple, if Thor remembered right from the old picture books. And yes, those were definitely Loki's teeth marks; Loki's upper left cuspid had a slight twist to it, and there it was in the bite. 

Finding Loki's bed gave him a surge of hope. He had never doubted that he would be the first to find Loki; he had to, the alternative was unthinkable, and he was _Thor_ and that meant he did what he set out to do. The discovery was heartening all the same. It also made him rethink his strategy. There had been nothing to eat since he left the edge of the forest, where the apple trees had grown in the sun. He turned back towards the plain. 

Nightfall brought a dazzling show of stars. Each boy was already curled up in a pile of soft leaves, a few miles apart, where they had watched the sky shifting from soft, dreamy shades to blazing flame and then at last violet and darkness. Asgard's sunsets were dull things, no more than pale gray darkening. Their languages still had the words for sunset, but this was the first time either had understood why anyone would bother to speak of it. 

Morning found Thor moving back into the plain, expanding his view of the treeline. Eventually Loki would have to come out for food, and his blue skin would stand out, bright against the bark and bramble of the forest. It would catch Thor's eyes instantly. His own blond hair and golden skin could easily be lost in the tall dry grass. 

Loki kept moving the same direction he had followed, roughly, since coming here. Eventually he had to come across a stream. He had never fished in his life, but desperation is a skilled tutor. He would learn. He had to. There would be fish and he would catch them and eat them and that was simply all there was to it. 

Thor, too, continued on the same way. He walked and walked and the sun grew hot and he still had found no water. He was nearly back to the forest to eat more fruit, hoping the juice would slake his thirst, when he saw it. A flash of blue. He froze and watched. He barely even breathed, so intent was every muscle. And there it was again. An arm, reaching up to grab a golden pear. 

Loki didn't hear the searcher until he was almost upon him. The breeze had picked up and set the grasses to dancing. A single person walking through them added little sound. He barely had time to spring to his feet and unsheath his knife... 

...and there was Thor. The last person in the realms he wanted to kill. But that didn't mean he wouldn't. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figuring things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to increase the posting schedule soon - I have the first half worked out, and I know the end, but I'm still figuring how to get from A to B. Once I have that, updates will be more frequent. 
> 
> If you're reading this and wondering wtf Loki is thinking... next chapter. ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

"Loki," Thor said, his voice pleading. 

Loki flourished his blade. "I'm not going back, Thor," he warned. 

Thor's eyes widened. "I'm not here to take you back. I'm running away with you," he said. 

"Then what's the rope for?" Loki asked, suspicious. 

Thor looked down at it as though surprised to find it on his shoulder. "In stories, when people go on adventures, rope is one of the things they take. It seemed like a good idea." Loki frowned. "Please, Loki. We're... we're meant to be together." 

"Only by their decision. They chose it for us." 

Thor shook his head. "I do not care how it happened. It's still real. And you have to know, Loki. The... _thing_ they suggested to your father. I would never have done that. No one could ever make me, you have to know that. But we do belong together. Can you truly say you don't feel it? Say you don't feel it and I'll go back and I'll lie to them. I'll tell them I never found you." 

Loki knew exactly what he should do. He should lie to him, he should say _no, Thor, I don't feel it._ He should send him back. 

"I feel it," he said. 

Thor's face broke into a smile. It was as warm as the sun above and their combined heat gave Loki a wave of dizziness. Thor caught him as he went unsteady on his feet. "See? I'm already coming in handy. But come, I did not mean to interrupt your meal." 

Thor made himself useful very quickly. His longer reach meant he could get more of funny little fruits on the brambles. "These are raspberries, I think," Thor said as he handed Loki another fistful. "I have seen these fruits before in pictures." 

Loki ate ravenously. As fast as Thor could fill his hands with fruits they were gone. He ate more than he knew he could before at last he was sated. Thor then had his fill and they continued north. The going was easier now that they were together. 

"You could have told me you were leaving. I would have come with you," Thor said a few hours into their walking. 

"I tried to tell you so many times how I felt. You didn't understand." 

Thor shook his head. "No, I did not - I still do not - understand. But that does not mean I did not respect how you felt." 

Loki had not been aware of the tight knot in his chest until he felt it release. 

***** 

The night was more peaceful with a companion, as well, even though each time one of them moved the dried leaves rustled beneath them. Thor slept curled around Loki, trying to keep warm and trying nothing else. 

After Thor found Loki, there was little else to distinguish their days. They kept walking the same way each day, telling each other that soon they would find a stream, and each day they believed it less. The fruit season would end and if they had not found water by then, they would be lost, and they both knew it. 

The changes came slowly enough that neither of them really noticed Loki's beautiful skin slowly fading, and he blamed his headaches on the brightness of the sun. It wasn't until the day he fell to his knees in the middle of a step that it struck them how ill he had become. Both knew why, and neither knew how to speak of it. Instead Thor hoisted Loki on his shoulders, shushing his protests with a wave of his hand. He set him down when they reached a patch of late strawberries, and they ate until they were overfull and stained and laughing. 

It was strange for Thor. He had never before felt hesitant or indecisive. Even now, though, when he knew what was needed, he could not bring himself to speak. With Loki so averse, he could never quite find the words to bring it up. And Loki was a little better after eating, enough that he was able to carry on walking the rest of the day. But the next day came and he could not stand at all. Thor put Loki on his shoulders and trudged on. Loki no longer had to hide the sparks of seidr that had occasionally trailed from his fingers. They no longer came. If they did not find water soon, none of it would matter. 

After four more days of carrying him, they heard a sound that seemed to be a thing of memory rather than reality. Thor tilted his head back to cast a beaming smile up at Loki, who was too tired to do more than the faintest curl of his lips. A brilliant sunset found them in a pool at the top of a waterfall. They drank perhaps half as much as they wanted, fearful of getting sickened by too much at once, and lay together in the shallows. They talked and talked, turning their faces to the side every so often to take another sip. It was cool and crisp and tasted of the soft grey minerals that lined the riverbed. 

They could have soaked for an eternity and not have had enough. But now that it was clear they would not die of thirst, there were... things that would have to be addressed. Thor scooped up a handful of sand and scrubbed himself with it until every inch was glowing red. He had not realized how stiff his skin had grown with dead skin and dried sweat gluing it down, until he was cleansed of it. Loki had been complaining of his skin itching and flaking for weeks now, and when Thor finished with his body he gave Loki the same treatment. He turned beautifully violet and for a moment Thor could pretend to himself that he was as radiant as ever. 

Thor left Loki relaxing as he gathered dried leaves to cushion their rest, and found him asleep when he returned. He carried Loki to bed, resolved that he would speak in the morning. Tonight they deserved to rest peacefully in the blissful rest of the freshly washed. And they did sleep better, their bodies comforted by the water inside and out. No sooner had they laid down their heads than cruel dawn woke them, though, it seemed. 

"Did you see any fish last night?" Loki asked. Thor could not help noticing that he looked no more rested than if he had not slept at all. Every inch of him was far too pale but for the skin under his eyes. That was too dark. 

"I did not, but to be honest, I was too focused on drinking and washing to have noticed." It was not the truth - he wanted to find fish more than he wanted life itself, it seemed. If any had come near, he would have noticed. If he could bring Loki fish, he would not have to speak the words. 

"We must go look," Loki told him. 

Thor nodded. He put Loki back on his shoulders - there were no more arguments about being carried like this, after that first day - and they went back to the pool. There was a smooth rock that jutted out almost to the center, and Thor laid Loki down on it to peer into the depths as Thor quickly stripped and dove in. 

"Thor, that splash will scare them all away," Loki said. Even a week ago there would have been playful scolding in his words. Now they were no more than air. 

"Not if they are really big. Then I will just be bait," Thor answered, teasing. The sun was right behind Loki's head, and Thor had to blink as he looked up. 

Once the water calmed, Thor began to swim slowly, little more than floating as he kept dipping his face beneath the surface to look. He had almost circled back to Loki when he saw a flash of silver. 

The sight of Thor diving sharply down gave Loki a jolt of energy. He unconsciously held his breath the whole time Thor was under, filling his lungs again as Thor came up empty handed. 

"I'm so sorry. I tried, but I lost it over the fall," he said. 

"Perhaps there are more down there?" Loki suggested. 

Thor waded out and went to take a quick look, leaving Loki on his perch to wait. He came back with a look on his face that Loki didn't understand. 

"They're there, but they're so small and quick. I tried. I really did," he said, disheartened by his failure. He sat next to Loki, feet dangling in the water. 

"The rope," Loki said suddenly. 

"I cannot catch them with that, it's far too big," Thor said, frowning. 

"No, you don't have to. If we untwist it and weave it into a net, could we catch them?" 

Thor sighed. "They're so little. If we made the net small enough to catch them, I don't think we could move it quickly enough through the water." 

"Then we make a dam. We'll dam up a second pool below, and put a net across the top, and catch them when they try to go through." 

"That could work," Thor said slowly, his mind running through the structure, how to get everything into place without the water's force carrying it away. How in the world he could possibly do it alone. 

***** 

He did try. Each night, he told himself he would speak in the morning, and each morning, he could not find the words. They ate the last of the late apples and began eating roots. Thor's days were long and arduous. He would get up and call the lightning to start a fire before going to dig for foods. He would put them on to cook and bring down trees with his hammer and drag them to the river. He would return to their small camp and eat. He would go to bed. Loki's days were longer and even more exhausting, though he did nothing but lie in bed and watch the fire and call for Thor if it threatened to burn their food. Despite the weather beginning to cool he suffered more from the heat, and took to wearing only his low sash. Ten days passed. Twelve. 

Thor watched Loki with worried eyes and said nothing. Surely, surely Loki would speak. But he did not, and so neither did Thor. Not until the day Loki scratched his head and came away with a handful of hair. He looked at Thor in horror. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretending worked for a while, but eventually things have to be addressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Thor could not be silent any longer. "We both know what this is," he said lowly. 

Loki turned his face away before nodding. He said nothing. 

"I can't- I can't watch you die, not when I can do something to stop it. Please don't ask that of me." 

"All this for nothing. All the running, eating the same food day after day, sleeping on rotting leaves, and it got me less than two more months," Loki said bitterly. 

_Day after day._ That was the crux of it, right there. Each day, except for the day they found each other, and they day they found the water, was worse than the day before it. And to do this now was to say that all his sickness and all their suffering were for nothing. That those days of pain were wasted. It was too much to accept - that he and Thor had both abandoned their future thrones, sacrificed home and friends and fate - and gained _nothing._ Perhaps if his attempt at running away had failed, he would have learned to accept it with grace. But he _had_ gotten away, and it was so hard to let go. 

"I thought it was the proposal made to your father that you ran from. It was truly foul," Thor said. 

_At first it was. But then it became a thing all its own and now I cannot stop it._ It sounded mad. Loki knew that perfectly well, so he didn't say it. Instead he shrugged. "They're still getting their way. They must have figured out we're together. They still _know._ " 

"Yes," Thor agreed. "But we're here. We're getting our way, too. Don't ask me to watch you die for it. Please." 

It was the shake in his voice when he said _please_ that did it. Loki was strong. He knew he was ill. Dying. And he did not like it, but he did not know how to let go of the one thought that carried him through his days. But making Thor watch him die... that he knew he could not do. 

Loki was still for another moment before rolling to his back. Thor watched as Loki tugged his low sash away from his hips with shaking ash-blue hands. Dull red eyes fixed on the broad tree branch above him. 

"Is that invitation?" Thor asked. 

"Permission," Loki answered stiffly. 

The worst of it was he _did_ want this. He wanted it as least as much as Thor did, possibly more. Where Thor had been raised learning that it was pleasure and friendship and political harmony, Loki had been taught that it was all those things and life itself. And yet... 

Thor's face was troubled but determined. "When this makes you begin to feel better, I hope to be welcomed," he said. 

Loki sighed. "Can you please not talk?" 

Thor almost wished things were different. He almost wished for the parades and feasting and week-long festivities that he had grown up expecting. He had seen so many of these celebrations for others and dreamed of the time he and Loki would take their turn. Loki would have looked magnificent in his joining robes. He almost wished that Loki would not have minded those things. But that meant wishing Loki were not Loki, and he could never want that. 

It was difficult to know where to start. Thor had had those lessons, of course, but they had all assumed that both parties would be active, eager participants. Even were Loki eager now, he didn't have it left in him to be active. 

Thor laid down on his side and simply draped an arm across Loki's waist before going still. Loki looked at him curiously. His face was so sad Loki had to close his eyes. They lay unmoving a long time, listening to the dull thunder of the waterfall. And when Thor did move, it was so light Loki could have dreamt it. Just the softest brushing of his thumb along a rib, back and forth, back and forth. It did feel nice, there was no denying that. Peaceful. The high, airy clouds were glowing pink and gold before Thor kissed him. It was on his shoulder, so that Thor barely had to move his head. This too was soft. And this time, when Loki sighed, it was not in despair. 

Thor stopped stroking only long enough to move his hand upwards to rest on Loki's far shoulder. His thumb was right at the base of Loki's neck, over the pulse that Thor must feel beginning to race. He continued the same gentle movements, ghosting up the slender column of Loki's throat, down to the curve at its base. It was on the third brush upwards that Loki was hit by a wave of desire so strong it made him shake. Thor's breath grew hot against his skin. 

Loki lay still and tried to ignore the way his treacherous body was responding. That grew even more difficult when Thor rose up over him and began trailing kisses across his chest. Though he was still young, his beard was coming in, and he could shave it only roughly with Loki's knife. His chin scratched pleasantly against Loki's skin, such a delicious counterpoint to his soft warm lips. 

"May I kiss you?" Thor asked. 

Such an odd question. Such a little thing to ask about, when Loki had already granted so much. Yet he paused before answering. 

"As long as you hold on to this rebellion, you let them control you. We're free, here. Let yourself be free," Thor said softly. 

Damn him. Damn him for being smart when Loki was supposed to be the smart one, and double damn him for being right. Loki choked back a sob as he turned to meet Thor's kiss, and as their lips touched, he felt the complete shattering of all that held him back from happiness. 

Thor showered him in kiss after kiss. And not just the lips, but kisses across his brow, on his eyelids, his jaw. Thor caught Loki's lower lip between his own and nuzzled it gently. When Thor coaxed his lips apart and slid his tongue between, Loki went dizzy. He brought his own shyly forward. The touch was electric. 

Thor's hand moved back down to his chest, trailing across the delicate skin of his throat as it went, swirling down his side to his narrow waist. Loki gasped when Thor's thumb brushed across his nipple. It was so light, it was hard to understand how it could affect him so strongly, but he could feel the tightness in his belly twisting up in response to Thor's touch. When Thor's tongue followed, he cried out. 

Loki was relieved to realize that his cock was responding to Thor's attentions. He had been afraid that he was too weakened. Even if he could do no more than this show of interest as he lay there to be taken... Thor deserved that, deserved to know that despite everything, his actions would be met by Loki's wanting them. 

There was no word for the sounds that poured from Loki as Thor took his cock between his lips. Thor had with him none of the things he had been taught to use, and as he coaxed Loki slowly higher he found himself praying that he would do well enough. His mouth watered, and he slicked his finger as best as he could before sliding it inside. 

Loki gasped at the intrusion, though it was wet enough not to hurt. Thor kept quietly sucking as he pushed in deeper, going so slowly, a single knuckle at a time and waiting, waiting for what felt like eternity before continuing. At last it was buried, his palm hot against Loki's skin as he kept it still. It felt strange, and not particularly pleasurable. Hardly a sensation that would be the focus of Jotun noble culture for generations now, the poets writing odes and the bards singing their devotions. Perhaps in time, one learned to associate the burst of health gained from the act with the act itself, and learned to look on it as pleasure. 

It felt stranger when Thor began to draw back, withdrawing no more quickly than he had entered. When he pressed back in, this time with two fingers, Loki felt... _something_. A twinge of connection between the dizzying bliss Thor was working on his cock and the odd fullness inside. Thor entered more quickly this time, saving his efforts for when he was completely in. He twisted his fingers, parting them gently and stretching Loki further open, stroking everywhere within. 

By the third, it began to feel good. Loki squirmed, pressing his hips towards Thor, wanting more. Thor took his time, smiling at the reaction he was provoking. He was unspeakably grateful that Loki had managed to let go of his reservations well enough to find pleasure in this. Back home, when Thor had filled his jars, it was only ever the thought of Loki crying out in ecstasy that brought him. 

Loki was quiet until the stretch of a fourth finger made him moan. The songs and poems had started to make sense, with their promises of joys beyond understanding. He wished now that he had not delayed so long, wished he had the energy to participate as fully as Thor deserved. As it was, Thor's eyes shone with happiness as he settled between Loki's legs and Loki hissed a soft _yessss_. 

Thor lowered his lips to Loki's relaxed entrance and licked, trying not to allow Loki's reaction to arouse him, too much, too soon, as he made Loki as wet as he was able. It was a far cry from the carefully crafted ointments back home, and Thor hoped again that it would be enough to gentle the way. 

Thor couldn't help feeling a warm glow in his chest as Loki protested the loss of his lips. He lifted himself up to his hands and knees and crawled up Loki's prone figure. His red eyes were drunken, and his skin gleamed with a faint sweat despite the cool of the evening. Messy black strands clung to his face, and Thor smoothed them gently back. Loki huffed with impatience and curled his hips upwards. 

"Is that permission?" Thor asked with a smile. 

"Invitation. Demand. Just do it," Loki said. 

Thor lowered himself to one elbow and pressed his forehead against Loki's as he ran his hand slowly downward, trailing light fingertips over the sensitive area at the base of his neck, stretching out to catch both nipples before continuing down his slender waist, giving his cock more attention before at last reaching for his own and bringing it to Loki's wet and waiting opening. 

Loki's eyes had fallen shut as he concentrated on taking in all the sensations that threatened to overwhelm him. They flew open when Thor pressed in. He was being so slow and careful though he didn't need to be and Thor's eyes were open, too, so close to Loki's that their lashes caught together, and Thor's open mouth drank in each of Loki's frantic moans. 

It was truly something worthy of the esteem it had been given. Even without the promise of restoring his health, it would be glorious, divine. Each short press inward was so much less than Loki wanted, and he could feel Thor's body shaking with the effort of holding himself back. 

"It's all right to be faster. I'm all right, please do it," Loki begged him. 

Thor didn't answer. Nor did he go more quickly. Instead he turned his head, claiming Loki's lips and demanding soft, luscious kisses as slow as the pace he still kept. He did want to go faster - it was all he could do not to thrust fully in, to bury himself in the tight hot heaven that waited for him - but it was better by far to have Loki coming apart like this beneath him, mewling and begging and utterly intoxicated by their joining. 

He no longer cared about all they had forgone. The parades and celebrations, the ceremonial robes and elaborate rituals, none of it mattered. Even Loki's inability to fully participate, even that Thor no longer minded. All that had happened... it had resulted in this, and Thor was thankful.

At last he was buried, their bodies skin to skin and as much as Thor wanted to chase the pleasure promised by the heady drive in, he held still a moment, savoring the closeness he had wanted before he even understood what it was. He cried out as Loki's passage tightened abruptly, so very close to too much. 

Loki froze. "Was that good or bad?" he asked. 

Thor met his wide eyes with a shaky smile. "Good. Possibly too good, if you wish to enjoy this as well," he admitted. 

"Oh," Loki said. Thor's words pleased him. Perhaps he was not so useless in this as he had thought. 

Thor took another moment to calm himself before he began to draw back. His motion was smooth and even and it made Loki moan and Thor wanted it to go on forever. When he pressed back in it was a little faster, still careful but gaining confidence. 

Loki began to move with him. Not much, not as he would have liked, but something. It might be enjoyable in the future to experiment with only one of them moving, while the other was free to relax and take, but that was not what he wished for this. This first time was for the two of them together. So Loki curled his hips to meet Thor's thrusts, wrapped his hand around the back of Thor's neck, whispering of his pleasure and happiness as Thor carried them both higher. Thor kissed Loki everywhere but on his mouth, unwilling to miss a single word. 

It did not last so long as either of them would have liked, but that was to be expected. The satiation of such a long-held desire could only be resisted for so long. Thor reached for Loki's cock, wanting desperately to experience Loki's climax as he found his own. Loki keened at the touch, and on the third stroke of Thor's hand he came. He had just enough strength left to tighten around Thor before the world fell away. He could still feel Thor, moving so dizzyingly within him, his lips and hands as warm and loving as Loki had always dreamed. The universe became nothing but Thor and Loki and perfect, screaming pleasure. 

What had been difficult to resist proved impossible in the face of Loki's orgasm. Loki's grasping body and sinfully gorgeous cries set him free, and Thor came in a shower of stars and music. Spilling himself inside of Loki felt like nothing so much as finding something he had not known was lost. He could have wept at the perfection. 

When Thor finished and returned to himself, Loki was sprawled out, panting. Thor pulled his softening cock free, smiling at the faint sound of loss Loki made as it left him. He settled onto his side, resting his arm across Loki's chest. 

"You are so beautiful, Loki," Thor murmured, because he had been told to give Loki compliments during this time, and more so because it was true. 

"My hair is falling out and I'm no bluer than the noonday sky," Loki pointed out. 

"And yet you remain beautiful," Thor told him. 

"It is long since you have seen another," Loki said wryly, but secretly he was pleased. For all they had gone through due to his avoidance, he had never wanted Thor's feelings about him to be other than they were. The two of them were meant to be, however it had happened. Thor had been right. 

"That would change nothing," Thor said. He rose onto his elbow to better see Loki's body. His eyes drank in the sight of his sated lover, relaxed and content. "Nothing at all." He leaned down to kiss Loki's cheek. 

Loki met his eyes. "I am sorry I brought us to this." 

"You are you, Loki," Thor told him. "Do not apologize." 

Loki smiled and fell into a silence that was broken when he burst into abrupt giggles and rolled to his front. A streak of white shone against his pert cheeks. "Did you bring my..." he trailed off. 

Thor shook his head. "You have seen all I brought. It does not matter." 

"But it'll run, it already is,” Loki protested. 

"Then I will give you more. Back home it had to be scheduled, but here it's whenever we want. As much as we want." 

"I want so much, Thor," Loki sighed, twining their fingers together. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor has saved Loki's life. Now Loki saves Thor's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

The sun was nearing its peak by the time Thor got to working on the dam. He had already had to change their leaves twice in order to give Loki a clean place to rest while he worked (the first time to replace the ones covered in last night's mess, and the second time because they had to celebrate how nice it felt to have a dry bed again). He spent perhaps two hours fitting large branches together underwater, needing long breaks to calm his gasping lungs and warm his chilly skin, before he heard something fuzzy through the rush of water in his ears. He surfaced just in time to hear his name.

" _Thor!_ "

"Yes, Loki?"

"I'm hungry again!"

Loki was reaching out for him when he arrived. It was their third day of being together like this, and Loki was proving to be a greedy and demanding lover, calling Thor back from his work on the dam several times a day, wanting more. Though he did not yet have the strength to participate as fully as Thor would have liked, his insatiability was beyond all Thor could have dreamed. Best of all, his eyes had lost their bleary dullness almost immediately and now they sparked with vigor.

"You are a glutton," Thor said as he sank to his knees.

"I think you like it," Loki answered. He caught at Thor's arms and pulled him down for kisses. Thor's kisses were always so thrillingly eager now, and his work-roughened hands felt delicious against Loki's skin.

"How much do you need, before?" Thor asked.

"None," Loki said. He spread his legs and tugged Thor between them. "I'm ready, I'm always ready."

"Always wanting," Thor said with a smile. He pushed in. He could hear Loki's breath catch, just as his own always did right at this moment when they joined. He went slowly, despite Loki's claim that he was ready, letting himself savor the feel of Loki's opening relaxing and giving way to him, the heat of his body that made such a delicious contrast with his cool skin, the way the taut ring of muscle always seemed to pull and tug until the head was buried and they were joined.

Loki's eyes had fallen shut at the feel of Thor sliding into him. "Yes, you, always wanting you," he answered.

"There is no other here to want," Thor teased. He fucked slowly, savoring the heady drag and the way it made Loki arch and beg.

"It would not matter. No one else could possibly-" Loki broke off with a gasp.

Thor moved faster, watching Loki come apart beneath him.

 

Where Loki's decline had been slow, his improvement was quick. Within a week, his coloring was growing bright and rich, his hair stopped falling out, and he had enough energy to fully respond to Thor's caresses. And then the day came when he did more than respond.

Loki had laughingly pulled Thor back to bed after their lunch of roasted roots. They settled down together, stretched out on their sides, kissing, exploring. When Thor began to move above him, though, Loki laid a hand on his chest and pressed him to his back.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Yes," Thor said.

Loki had Thor out of his clothes faster than he knew to be possible, and then he cast his own sash away and it was his turn to rise up, slinging his leg gracefully over Thor's hips. He took particular care that it be graceful, with the weight of Thor's gaze heavy upon him. He was tired of stuttering weakness. The time for that was in the past.

Thor reached up, taking Loki's hips in his hands, taking in the feel of Loki above him. He took Thor's cock in his hand to hold it still, and he gave Thor that glorious smile, and he sank down. His head fell back as he cried out, hips twisting sinuously in Thor's grasp. Thor moaned as he arched up into it. Thor felt huge within him, long and thick, and even as each surge deeper threatened to overwhelm his senses,what Loki most loved were those brief moments they stilled and he could feel the soft, slight motions of Thor's cock twitching with want. They were never more than brief, though, not with both of them too hungry for more, and soon Thor's fingers were biting into Loki's skin as he pulled Loki down to meet each thrust and Loki was panting, blinded by stars as he came.

In the interest of practicality, their lovemaking was more restricted once Loki was up and about. Thor would take him over and over, through the evening and into the darkness, and he learned to sleep on his stomach. By midday (for that was the earliest they managed to rise) he could move around without a mess. Loki had been unsure at first about asking for so much at once, but Thor was young and strong and gave completely to Loki's every desire.

"It is why we are together," Thor said whenever Loki spoke of it. "It is my place, to care for you."

"And my place? How am I to care for you in return?" Loki would ask.

"You will find it," Thor would say.

The bed still had to be changed daily, with Loki's spill soaking the leaves even though Thor's was not.They were running out of dry leaves on which to sleep and had made very little progress on the dam. It would still be good to have fish – there was still a limit to how much nutrition Thor could dredge out of roots and the shriveling apples they had piled up – but the urgency had faded. Winter, instead, had become a more immediate concern.

That fear, too, was somewhat reduced one day when Loki went exploring a way they hadn’t gone before, and came across a stand of trees with thin, flexible bark.

“I think if we build a frame with tree branches, we can cover it with this,” he said when he returned to their camp carrying a piece. “It will at least protect you from the wind.”

“And if we build two layers, the air in between them will act as insulation.”

The next several days (perhaps a week, though they themselves had stopped thinking in such terms… the passage of a single day mattered, and seasons, but not the counting of days themselves) were devoted to finding suitable tree branches. At last they had enough, and together they built a good solid frame.

"I've been experimenting with it, while you worked on the dam. I think if we cut the edges into fringe, we can weave them together," Loki said.

Thor kissed him. "Brilliant. We can try the thorns from the brambles in place of nails, to fix them to the frame."

The thorns did seem to work well enough, though it would need some mending after particularly windy days. And then they had to do it again, building another frame just over the top, the thickness of the branches just right to give a cushion of insulating air. The second one went up more easily with the practice.

It didn’t really seem to make that much of a difference until their third morning in it, when they woke feeling pleasantly warm and then crawled out the flap to find a solid layer of frost sparkling across the world.

Thor burst into excited laughter. “It worked,” he said, wrapping his arms around Loki and pulling him back inside.

As winter set in, worse than that of Asgard, it became clear that Loki had saved Thor's life, just as Thor had saved his. Many days were bitter enough that Thor ventured out of the tent just long enough to relieve himself before rushing back to its relative warmth. Loki worked himself to exhaustion, carrying wood to feed their fire, hacking at the frozen ground with his knife to make it yield the roots that were all they could find to eat, folding the tree bark into rough cones so that he might bring water to Thor. The days were short and he spent every minute of sunlight fighting to keep Thor alive until spring. The nights were long and it was in them that Thor gave life to Loki in return.

Their bed was a deep nest of dried leaves covered by a large and precious sheet of the bark. Whatever mess they left on it overnight could be removed the next day by setting it outside. Within an hour, anything on it would be turned to ice and could be broken off and shaken to the ground. They were careful to keep Thor's cloak clean. Thor couldn't part with it long enough for it to be washed.

It was a delicate balance, building the fire large enough to warm them without being so large that the smoke would overwhelm the tent. They had left a vent at the peak, but when it was open very far, the wind would push both smoke and cold air down inside to swirl around them. It was a difficult balance, and one that left them chilled and coughing.

Their couplings were rushed and frantic, always with Loki's back pressed to Thor's chest. Pleasure itself became cursory, a task like any other. Afterwards they fell into unresting sleep without moving. Loki's skin was slow to warm, but once it had taken on Thor's heat, Thor clung to him like a sea creature, all grasping arms and instinct.

There was one root which tasted rich and sweet, and one which was mild and creamy, but Loki never found enough of either one to spare them the bland ones that seemed to predominate. They lost weight out of boredom.

And still, it was better to live free.

Spring came at last, late enough they had begun to doubt its return. The snows retreated until only the deepest drifts, hidden away in the cold shadows, remained. As they drew back, exposing the barren soil to the sun, the earliest tender shoots appeared. The first time Thor spied them it took him a moment to realize that they were real.

"Loki! Get up, come quickly!" he called.

Despite Thor's urgency, Loki felt little need to hurry. He was stretched out in bed, luxuriating in the aftermath of the best sex they'd had in ages.

The fragile green leaves were bitter but vibrant after months of dull roasted roots, and it was impossible to eat enough of them. They laughed at the sight of each other, cramming food frantically into eager mouths.

One kind tasted sharp and cold and lingered delightfully on their tongues. Thor stared at them a long time. "I think this is mint," he said at last.

"It's good, is what it is," Loki said. Thor chewed one before he gave Loki his mouth and the tingling made him scream in ecstasy.

Warmth followed with the spring, the days brisk and bright as Thor returned to work on the dam. Sweet berries followed, sunset colors of red and pink and purple and they smeared the juices across each other's bodies and licked them clean beneath the matching sky.

"This one is my favorite," Loki said, his tongue making long stripes through the purple juice of a lumpy black berry. "Do you know what it is?"

Thor looked. "Blackberry," he said.

"You could have at least tried a _little_ ," Loki said, laughing.

"It is," Thor insisted. "I remember it from the picture books."

Now that he was no longer devoting every speck of energy to holding off death for another day, Loki began to practice his seidr in earnest. It was slow going, with no tutor to guide him. The study was rewarding, though. And they had survived their first winter here. The ones yet to come, he was determined, would be easier.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discovery and how to make use of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Their next major discovery was of a clay bed downriver from the waterfall perhaps a mile. 

“Do you know how to use it?” Thor asked. Loki shook his head _no._ “Me either. We’ll figure it out,” Thor declared. 

Their first several pieces – jugs, because being able to carry water with them would greatly expand how far they could explore – blew up in the campfire, sending terrifying shards flying in all directions. 

“There must be air bubbles in it,” Thor said. "They're expanding when it's heated." 

"Let me try," Loki said, picking up a fresh piece of clay. It was difficult, learning to control his seidr without a tutor to guide him, but it was worth an attempt. He held it lightly in his hands, long fingers wrapped around its sticky edges, and let the power trickle inside. He had learned he could feel the seidr where it poured from him, as though his fingers had grown longer, and he felt around inside until he reached a bubble. 

Thor watched in rapt silence as Loki worked. His eyes were shut tight in concentration, and he was motionless but for the slight rise and fall of his chest. And then the clay _lurched_. Thor stared as it moved jerkily and suddenly there was a gully on the surface where a bubble had been pushed out. He wanted to throw his arms around Loki and scream for joy, but Loki's face had lost none of its intensity. There was a long wait before anything else happened. It was growing hard to stand still when all at once three bubbles came boiling out, one right after the other, and Loki sagged with exhaustion. 

"It's done. I don't think it'll explode now," Loki said tiredly. 

"You're worn out. Hungry," Thor said, picking him up. 

"We should shape this while it's still wet," Loki protested. 

Thor was struck with an idea, and he hid his smile in Loki's hair. It was, he felt, far too much like one of Loki's smiles for it to be misunderstood. "I'll take you to the workstone, then," he answered. 

Loki slumped in his arms, the lump of clay still in his hands, as Thor walked over to the flat rock they had designated for this work. "What are you doing?" he laughed as Thor shifted his weight to a single arm (oh, Thor's arms were glorious, he thought, and they had not even begun to reach their fullness of manhood) and opened his breeches. 

"You take care of the clay. I'm taking care of you," Thor said, taking Loki in both hands and shifting him as easily as a feather. When Thor sank down to the log that formed their rough work chair, he lowered Loki to sit in his lap facing the stone. "Well, go ahead. You wanted to get the clay worked right away," Thor whispered into his ear. 

Loki was open and slippery. He was always open and slippery, each time he received opening the way for the next, never going long enough for Thor to need to do more than the slightest stretching before he could thrust inside, confident of giving nothing but pleasure. And now Thor worked himself to hardness so quickly that Loki had gotten no more than the roughest start to another jug before Thor was taking hold of his hips and lowering him onto his cock. Loki moaned, his head falling back onto Thor's shoulder. 

"I thought it was very important to do that immediately. So if you want this-" Thor said, thrusting up so sharply he took Loki's breath away, "-you better keep doing that." 

It proved at least as difficult for Thor to restrain his vigor as it was for Loki to even halfheartedly shape the clay. Loki was always so slippery and hot and ready for him, and he wasn't used to having to hold himself back. But after a winter in which their sex had been a desperate thing, a matter of survival, spring had come, and with it the desire for nuance and experiment. For play. Though they had reached the age to participate in their people's shared survival, they were still young, taking on far more responsibility than would have been expected of them at home for years yet. 

Play gave way to burning hunger, though, as Loki writhed sinuously in his lap, his bones turned to things of liquid fire, seidr sparking randomly from his fingers as he slapped at the slumping jug. 

"Please, Thor, harder," he begged, trying to grind himself down. 

That was what Thor loved more than _anything_. When he was buried as far as he could go, and Loki still pressed against him, trying to take him somehow deeper, wanting to be filled impossibly, wanting _Thor_ to fill him impossibly. When Loki got this close he always pleaded and sobbed and begged until Thor lost what remained of his restraint. Thor grabbed onto his hips and held him up, just slightly, just enough to give him something to thrust up into. He dug his fingers in a little tighter than he meant to and fucked, fast and frantic until Loki's words gave way to long, broken moans as his climax took him and Thor tumbled after, his breath hot against Loki's back as he panted and spilled. 

He lowered the limp figure gently back into his lap, his softening cock still buried. Thor wrapped his arms tightly around Loki's chest and rested his forehead against the nape of his neck. Loki was so many things to him. Friend. Lover. Protector and protected. Belov- 

"This jug is terrible, Thor," Loki said drily. 

"I know," Thor said. 

Loki reshaped the jug when Thor got up to swim himself clean. His seidr was still too raw and new to use without exhaustion; after the work he had put into this piece of clay it was far too precious to let it dry unformed. Once it was finished he splashed into the pond, sending a shower of spray across Thor's face just as he surfaced from a dive. 

Thor laughed and dunked him. 

"It's going to work this time, Thor. I reached in once it was done, and it was solid. We'll fire it tomorrow and when it works I'll start making more." 

The next day they put the dried jug into the middle of their fire and built it up high, letting it sit until the fire burned back down. The day after that, it was cool enough to pluck from the ashes. 

"It's beautiful," Thor said, holding it up. The shape still left something to be desired, but it was serviceable, and considering it was only the fourth time Loki had made anything with clay, that was good enough. And the fire had left patterns across the surface, mostly traces of black and gray where the flames had danced around it, but in the depths of the black it shimmered purple and gold, deep rich traces lovely as seidr. 

Once that problem was figured out, Thor went back to working on the dam while Loki made more jugs, followed by plates and rough tumblers. Almost before they knew it, both were done with their tasks, and it was time to make the net. It took both of them to untwine the rope into slender threads, and both of them to weave it anew. 

The day they were ready to install the net atop the dam dawned cool and misty. "A good sign, for a day of water," Thor said. 

"It's chilly for you to be getting wet. You stay over here, and I'll swim across with the other end," Loki told him. 

Thor didn't argue as he would have even a few months ago. _Finally getting some sense,_ Loki would have called it. _Learning that the cool water always made Loki hunger for something hot_ was what Thor would have called it, and perhaps they were the same thing. 

Loki cut swiftly through the water, the rapid current over the top of the dam offering him little resistance. It was more of a struggle when they raised the net into place. The water fought to rip it from their hands and carry it away with all their hours of work, but they had built their anchors carefully, and soon had the ends locked into place. Loki swam along, stopping periodically to place heavy rocks pinning it down. 

"I think it will work. The fish will stay here until they have grown large enough for us to eat," Loki said as he climbed onto the rock next to Thor. 

"I am glad. Though it does not matter so much, now," Thor said. 

"It will still be good to have them," Loki told him. 

"It will. In the meantime, let me give you what you need," Thor answered, curling his arm around Loki's waist and pulling him close. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discoveries, experiments. Successes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

With the dam and net installed, they were able to shift their attention to other things. The net didn't catch the fish as they had hoped, but it kept them from leaving the pond as they grew, and perhaps that was better. Once the fish were large, they would provide enough good food for them both.

The weather grew glorious, and they had few tasks to fill their time. Whole days were dedicated to exploring their new world and all it had to offer. They would set off randomly with Thor carrying jugs of water and Loki's shirt filled with fruit and slung over his shoulder. One day they found a field of beautiful flowers growing on heavy stalks that came up past their waists. The flowers were as large as their palms, the blooms white and the tight buds blushing pink.

"Do you think these will fruit?" Loki asked.

"They are unfamiliar. I do not know if they will bear something worth eating, but we should watch them."

Loki broke one off and tucked it behind Thor's ear. "There. Well worth sparing one," he said with a smile.

Many days passed, and by the time they returned to the flower field, they knew the locations of several more strawberry beds, a huge blackberry thicket, and had figured out many more good leaves. They also had the beginning of a garden. Loki had studied the winter roots as he had dug them up, and he spent hours searching for the tell-tale vines of his favorite, the sweet orange kind. When he found a small patch, he dug some up - not many, but a few - and cut them into smaller pieces, each one with its own vine. "Do you think it will work?" he asked nervously.

"It seems promising. Perhaps we should not plant them too soon, though, so the wetness does not rot them," Thor answered.

Loki nodded. "That is well thought," he agreed. They let the pieces sit for two days while the cut surfaces dried before planting them gently.

After that, Loki devoted hours each day to tending the vines as they grew strong and bushy. At last, though, they made their way back to the field of flowers. The blooms were almost gone now, just a few late stragglers bobbing their hanging heads in the afternoon breeze. In their place were pale green pods.

"Those look like food," Loki offered. "Do you recognize them?"

"I do not," Thor said regretfully.

"It had better be me that tries them, then."

"No, I disagree. I am stronger. If they are dangerous, I will bear it better."

"And if you do not, what happens to me?" Loki asked softly. Thor did not answer. Nor did he argue when Loki broke one off. He snapped it in half and sniffed at it. "It smells green," he said, and licked it.

His reaction was abrupt and harsh. "It is not food," he said when he finished foaming and spitting.

Thor picked it up from the ground. "These seeds might be good, when they have matured. It would do us good to eat some fat."

Loki glared at the pod and spat again. "Perhaps," he answered doubtfully.

When they returned, days and days later, it was to find some of the pods had turned brown and dry. Thor cracked one open between his hands and made a sound of annoyance.

"Do the seeds look bad?" Loki asked.

"No, they appear well. But they are mingled in this fluff, and we will have to sort them out." Thor opened his hands and blew, sending away a flurry of tiny white clouds before licking his palm and chewing. "It is crisp. The taste is mild, but good. Here," he said, holding out his hand.

Loki licked up the seeds that remained. The crunch was satisfyingly different from their other foods, and Thor was right about the flavor. Light and rich they were, and he wanted more. The hulls were hard, resisting the pressure of their hands before shattering. Both ate until their hands were sore from the cracking.

"Perhaps we should try to plant some of these, as well," Loki suggested as they walked back.

"It would be good to have some closer," Thor agreed. He had kept some of the fluff and was toying idly as they walked.

They were nearly back to the waterfall when he tried twisting it. He froze. "Loki, look," he said.

Loki stopped and turned back. "Thread," he said.

Thor met his eyes, half-laughing in excitement.

There were no more free moments after that. Every second of daylight that was not dedicated elsewhere went to harvesting the pods before they burst open and carried away the seeds and fibers. At night, they would lie in bed together and twist the cotton into threads as they recovered from their lovemaking.

The loom they made was of the crudest sort, no more than a series of sticks jutting from the earth, but they were enough to catch the long threads into loops to form the warp. Loki's hands were smaller than Thor's, and he took to weaving while Thor scouted and tended the garden.

The first piece of fabric he made was rough and bulky, but solid enough to work into a bag to wear while harvesting food. It was difficult to work with any degree of detail, lacking a needle. Edges of the weavings could be joined together only by tediously working a thread through by hand. Thor took the bag up at once. "While you weave, I will collect apples for the winter. There was a bite to the air this morning already," he said.

So Loki wove, and Thor made trip after trip, returning to camp to empty his bag before heading out again. Morning after morning, he methodically returned to each of the apple groves they had found in their explorations, stripping tree after tree. In the afternoons, Thor would sit next to Loki and slice that day's harvest, laying the pieces out on the rocks to dry in the sun.

"The vine patch is thriving. That was a good idea you had," Thor said one day as he took his seat.

"Only because it worked. Otherwise we would have wasted some of the best ones," Loki pointed out.

"But it did work," Thor said with a smile. "And I have a plan for how to dig them up more easily than what you had to do last year."

"What is it?" Loki asked.

Thor smiled at him again. "You will see," he said.

*****

"Wait! Before you get your hands covered in juice," Loki said as Thor picked up the knife. He leaned to his side and held up a long, somewhat misshapen piece of cloth. "Here, try this on. It's a scarf to wrap around your head. I can't figure out how to make a hat."

Thor tried it on, making one, two, three passes around his head before tucking in the end. It was lumpy and bulgy and Loki laughed at the sight, but not at the knowledge that here was protection and safety. His work was rough, but it would be sufficient.

Thor's next clothes were a long heavy skirt to wear over his breeches and a long sleeveless tunic. Separate sleeves - to be tied to the tunic - followed. The cold air would still get in at the shoulders, but his cape would guard against the worst of that.

By the time the skirt was done, it was cold enough that Thor was glad of the extra layer of warmth as he walked the carefully memorized ways. By the time he had stripped the apple trees, it was cold enough to start wearing all the clothes Loki had made for him.

Loki had been afraid that Thor would be embarrassed to wear such poorly made and ill-fitting clothing (and a _skirt_ , at that - Loki knew how the Aesir felt about things connected to their genders, though he couldn't really understand), but Thor wore it all proudly.

"I know how others feel about womanly things, but they are not so familiar my mother," Thor explained with a smile.

And when the cold came, all thoughts of appearance fell away. Some days last winter, Thor had felt like screaming at being trapped so long in the tent. The only thing holding him back was the fear that Loki would feel himself to blame. But months in which he saw no more than the same close walls, except for his briefest excursions out to take care of necessities, had worn at him more than he cared to admit. This winter, though... he could not in truth say that his extra clothes kept him comfortable, but they kept him comfortable _enough_. He could leave the tent and move about and feel free.

Hours passed as they played in the snow, building snow men and forts. They threw snowballs at the trees, knocking off the icicles that built up seemingly every night.

Thor showed Loki his new way of gathering roots from the frozen ground. "Stand back, I do not wish to injure you," he said seriously. Loki, who was still picturing some method of digging into solid dirt, laughed, but stood back all the same.

Thor knelt and placed one hand on the ground, raising Mjolnir to the sky. The clouds above them darkened instantly, swirling high overhead, and a slender lightning bolt shot to the ground. Thor grinned up at Loki and ran his fingers through the softened earth until he had a root. "I can do this every day that we need to collect more. And it's already half cooked, it will quickly be done on our fire."

Loki grinned at him. "That's more time for us to have fun," he said.

"Watch this," Loki said another day. He held his hands to his chest until he had Thor's attention, and then he flung them outward, sending shards of ice flying from his fingertips.

Thor laughed in delight. "Do that again," he said. "It is marvelous."

*****

The scarf wrapped around Thor's head kept him warm enough in their tent that he could remove some other pieces of clothing. Sex was strange at first, with Thor warmly dressed from the waist up and bare below, but they soon grew accustomed. It was still of a necessity more hurried than it was in the summers, when they could spend hours exploring each other's bodies, reveling in what sounds could be made if they touched just here, or if they licked just there. But it was a far greater cry from the previous winter's joyless couplings.

And this year, with the winter spent in play and pleasure, spring came far more quickly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some ideas are better than others, and some rules exist for very good reasons.

The early leaves tasted every bit as heavenly as they had the year before. Minted kisses and minted tongues gave shivers of delight just when the shivers of the cold were gone. The fruits followed, early berries peeking out from beneath sheltering leaves, later berries standing out proudly from their brambles. They planted their cotton seeds and tended their patch, and cut up the last few of the sweet potatoes and planted the starts to grow into strong new vines. 

Their bodies were still growing larger and stronger, and the tent was becoming too small. Thor's strength was growing, too, and he began an ambitious project. He would not tell Loki what it was at first. Instead he spent day after day knocking down certain trees - sometimes from quite far away - and dragging them back to camp, until he had a massive pile. This he sorted into several smaller piles, each one with trees of a different height. 

"You will see," he said with a smile each time Loki asked what he was doing. In the meantime, Loki was busy caring for their gardens, sending his fingers of seidr into the soil, urging each seed to sprout, coaxing each potato cutting to search for the sun. 

And then the day came when Thor asked for help. "I will do the lifting, but I will need your aid with the balance," he explained. 

Loki followed him back to his work area to find the first layer of logs already in place. "A cabin?" 

Thor's smile rivaled the sun. "A cabin." 

Thor did indeed, as he had promised, take care of the lifting, his arms tense and bulging with the effort. It would have been nearly impossible to balance them as they were lifted into place, though. It took him some time to select the perfect log for each place, and while Thor rummaged through the piles of wood, Loki busied himself smoothing a thick layer of mud between those already in place. 

Even with Thor's strength, raising their cabin was slow and painstaking work, but at last the walls were at their waists, then their shoulders, and finally over their heads. Hinges were beyond their current abilities, but the walls were solid, and a small doorway, just big enough to crawl through and covered by several layers of tree bark, would grant them protection enough. 

The day that they finished the roof was a day of celebration. It was difficult for Thor to get the logs that high, even standing on the tall rock that he had dragged over, and Loki had exhausted himself using his seidr to offer support as the last logs were rolled into place. 

"I'll do the mud in the morning," Loki said, collapsing onto his back with a sigh. 

"And you will indulge tonight," Thor said, picking him up with careful arms behind his back and beneath his knees. He carried Loki to the low pool, where the falls tumbled down. With the dam in place, this water was calm and quiet, just right for relaxing. 

"Tell me. In what shall I indulge?" Loki asked, his eyes glimmering. 

"In all you enjoy." Thor began to kiss his way down Loki's body. They had discovered how greatly Loki enjoyed it when Thor used his mouth on his long blue cock, the way it flushed deeper and deeper indigo as Thor sucked and nuzzled and licked until Loki spilled within him. Thor took full advantage of Loki's tired limpness, enjoying the sight of his long lean body stretched out in the water and savoring each soft gasp of pleasure. They both liked it when this was drawn out, though, and Thor drew back before fulfilling the promises his teasing lips had made. 

Thor moved beneath him, moving his feet slowly to keep himself floating low and upright while Loki stayed floating on his back. Loki tilted his head away as Thor began to kiss his neck, his tongue and lips working at the delicate skin, feeling his heartbeat. He reached around until he could tease at a perfect nipple, smiling as it grew taut beneath his fingertips. His other hand reached for Loki's cock. Loki gasped again as Thor wrapped his hand firmly around it and began to stroke. 

The water's gentle waves matched the rich, low heat that rippled through him. Everywhere Thor touched him, hands and tongue and lips all working together to coax him higher, felt linked, as though cock and nipple and sensitive throat were one. Nor was that all, Loki realized through the dizzying haze Thor was working on his mind. The water lapped at his quim, offering further sensations to melt into the rest. Strange, how he and Thor still followed that rule, with all they had broken. The very thought of Thor, _there_...

Loki came with a low, aching moan that rolled across the face of the water. It made Thor remember watching the fog in the Above, when the two of them would walk together to the side of the icy sea. 

***** 

They didn't sleep in their cabin, preferring to remain in the fresh air through the blissful summer nights. The stars danced in Loki's vision as Thor moved above and within him, they filled Thor's eyes as Loki rode him. One night Thor was on his back and Loki lay atop him, Thor's hands curling around to make long dreamy passes of his hands down Loki's chest, Loki's head thown back to rest on Thor's shoulder. A shooting star burned its way across the sky as they came. 

They did work inside their cabin during the days. Thor gathered more of the tree bark and painted rough pictures with berry juice. Most of them dried to dullness, but the blackberry juice made a pleasing dusky purple. It made Thor sigh, all the same. 

"I wanted to keep the colors of summer for you," he told Loki. 

"In the harshness of winter, this softness will be more welcome," Loki answered. 

"I wanted to paint things more suited to fine brushes than my fingertips." 

"Thoughts of your fingers are always welcome," Loki said, taking one into his mouth. It was stained and sweet. 

***** 

Thor was surprised to return one day from his explorations to find Loki making more clay jugs. 

"Oh, yes," Loki said. "I'm also making a vat for when the apples come. We'll juice them and over the winter we'll have hot cider to drink instead of cold water." 

"You want to see how it is for me to take you drunk," Thor teased. 

"There's nothing wrong with that, not as long as we both want it," Loki said. 

"You know I do. I want to try everything, every way we can think of," Thor told him. 

Loki met his eyes and said nothing. 

Nor was it so long before the apples came, carrying with them the first whispers of frost in the air. By the time they were all collected, the nights of sleeping outdoors were at an end. The cabin was better by far than the tent had been. The summer's spinning had gone to making a long wide bag for the leaves that would become their mattress, and enough had remained to form two small cushions. It was pleasant to sit on them next to the fire as they ate their meals. 

They waited until the last of the dried apples were no more than a memory before they opened the first jug of cider. It proved to be well-fermented, much stronger than it tasted, a fact which they did not learn until Loki tried to stand and fell into Thor's lap. Thor doubled over him, laughing. He laughed harder when he tried to stand and lift Loki all at once, and fell backwards himself. It was Loki's turn to laugh, then, twisting in Thor's arms deliciously and somehow they found themselves kissing, their hands clumsy as they wandered over each other. 

Thor did not realize what he had done until Loki froze with a sharp intake of breath. He moved his hand away abruptly. "I am sorry, Loki. I didn't mean-" 

Loki cut him off. "We have broken every other rule. Why do we continue to follow this one?" 

Thor somehow managed to stand, then, carrying Loki to their bed and sinking down between his knees. "You mean it?" he breathed. 

"I do," Loki said. "Don't you want to know what we're missing?" 

"Yes, but I never dreamed - I never dared." 

"What is there to stop us here? Go ahead," Loki said, letting his legs fall farther apart. 

Thor stared, riveted. The delicate violet folds glistened more temptingly than ever. For all he had admired, Thor had never before dared to touch. He reached forward a tentative hand to run one finger gently between them. Loki's eyes on him were shining and hot. He did it again, and Loki's head fell back as the most exquisite little moan escaped his lips. This was not something Thor had learned, as the other had been; neither of them knew more than the most basic biology and a warning that this was something not for them. 

Loki forgot how to breathe as Thor slid one finger within. He had touched himself here, before, but the feel of another was altogether different. "Yessss...." he hissed as a second joined the first. 

"You like this, do you?" Thor teased. His voice was heavy with want, despite his words. He watched Loki's body respond to his attentions, the folds swelling and opening before him. He thought of a flower, a tight bud bursting into full bloom to welcome the bees that came hungering for the sweetest nectar. 

"More," Loki said. 

"How do you want to be?" Thor asked. 

"Like this," Loki said. He had been told to save this until his marriage. Thor would take him like a bride. 

Thor moved upwards until his arms enclosed Loki, his knees resting between Loki's outstretched legs. "You're trembling," he said uncertainly. 

"Only that it's new. I want it," Loki said. 

So Thor brought himself into place, more than slightly awkward from the newness and the cider, and pushed. It felt soft and slick as Loki's body opened itself to him, and it was so, so easy to bury himself in soft grasping warmth. What he had to do was little different, he soon realized. Each heady thrust was met with the same sounds of pleasure, each dizzying glide back with the same wordless pleading. 

Loki moved bonelessly beneath him, arms and legs wrapped around him, grasping at him, pulling him closer, pulling him deeper. He panted in Thor's ear, words of encouragement and desire broken by the most mesmerizing little gasps Thor had ever heard. And he drew close so very quickly. Rather than reaching for his cock, though, as he usually did when Thor did not do it first, he balled his hands into knots, holding on to the corners of the pillow as he planted his feet firmly on the ground and drove his hips upwards to meet each of Thor's thrusts. 

It all felt different, neither more nor less glorious than what he was used to but the newness of it, and even more than that, the knowledge that they were breaking one of the most rigid taboos of their cultures, made his blood surge hot through his veins. And Loki felt it too, Thor thought, as he watched Loki's eyes rolling back in his head. He shook and whimpered as he came, much sooner than Thor expected it, but when he went to withdraw. meaning to allow Loki's nerves to rest, he was met by a frantic "No, don't stop," that urged him on faster. 

By the time Thor spilled, billows of liquid heat swirling around him, Loki had come four times. "I didn't know you could do that," Thor said. 

Loki was still shaking lightly as he struggled to calm his breath. "No, nor did I. It must be something to do with... there." 

"Did you like it? Was it good?" 

Loki's smile was weak with exhaustion. "Very good," he said. 

Thor lowered himself to kiss Loki gently before he laid down at his side. "You were magnificent," he said, but Loki was already asleep. 

It was at some hour late in the night when Loki felt the spark. 

He lay still, refusing to acknowledge it, his mind filled with an endless litany of _no no no_. He watched the walls take on the soft glow of dawn. Thor did not wake til well after full light. Loki watched as he opened his eyes and groaned. 

"How are you?" Thor asked. 

"I am well." He just had to mean it hard enough when he said it. If he meant it enough, it would be true. 

"My head is pounding," Thor said, letting his eyes fall shut. 

"I will go get you some fresh water," Loki said. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets can only be hidden for so long.

Loki denied it as long as he could. He slept fitfully, his dreams terrifyingly joyful. In them he was much further along, contented and happy as Thor whispered to his swollen belly or built a cradle for their child. In others Loki dreamed of gathering more leaves, making an ever-deeper bed for his heavy body to nestle into, or of gathering and drying colorful flowers to make bright mobiles to hang from the roof of their cabin. He would wake still filled with the warm glow, and it would take a moment for the horror to overtake him. This could not be happening. It wasn't. "It's not real, it's not real," he would tell himself and try to believe the lies. 

Each day the spark grew stronger, taunting his efforts, until it became impossible even to try. He reached inside himself with his seidr, trying to cast it out, but his own body fought against him, and it came to nothing. Anytime he appeared to be relaxing, he was sending sharp fingers within himself, squeezing, pushing. He ate the berries that had sickened him before, forcing them down, but the misery they wracked upon him had no effect. Each time he ate more, making himself sicker. He focused on the agonizing cramps, sorting among them for one that felt different from all the rest, but it never came. It was exhausting, hiding this from Thor. 

At last he tried flinging his body onto a pile of carefully arranged rocks, but hurt only himself. And this he had time to try only once. Thor saw the bruises, dark gray marring his blue skin (which had only grown more radiant since _it_ had happened, as if to mock him), and demanded answers. 

Loki meant to lie. Indeed, he was halfway through one of the many lies he had so carefully prepared for this moment, when he realized he couldn't finish it. The words would not rise to his lips, not so easily as the tears came to his eyes. "That night," he said wetly. 

"Which night?" Thor asked. Surely Loki did not mean the night when they drank the cider and broke the last rule, though it was true they had not done it again. Loki had seemed to enjoy it just as much as Thor - indeed, more so. But it did not seem a thing to ask for, and Loki did not offer. 

Loki turned his face away. "The only one," he said. "I'm..." He couldn't say the word. He'd never said it, never even let himself think it. Instead he reached out for Thor's hand and rested it on his belly. "Feel different? A little fuller, now that you're looking for it?" 

Thor froze. "But it was only once," he whispered. 

"Once is enough, it seems," Loki said bitterly. 

"I will care for you," Thor promised. "Tell me what you need and I will do everything for you." 

"I have no idea what I need. We usually learn about this before we wed. There's no real point before that, not when we have you." 

Thor dredged his memory. Surely there was something he might remember, from the pregnant Aesir women he had known? No, he admitted to himself, he recollected only sore feet and growing appetites and glowing skin. And happiness, not this damp misery. 

"The fish have had long enough to grow. I will start catching them for you. You should eat more, at the very least," Thor said. 

"I _should_ get rid of it, is what I should do. But I've tried everything I can think of, and nothing works," Loki answered. He glared at his stomach as though enmity might succeed where seidr had failed. It did not. 

Thor sat next to him and wrapped his arms around him. He could feel Loki shaking, ever so slightly. He hoped Loki could not feel his own quiet trembling in return. 

"How much longer..." Thor trailed off. _How much longer do we have? How much longer until it comes and takes over our lives?_

"I don't know," Loki said. His beautiful voice had gone flat and dull. "Does it matter?" 

"There are things I must do," Thor said. As long as he thought about what was in need of doing, if he just thought hard enough, he could drive out the rest of his thoughts. 

They sat together, silent, until the setting of the sun. Thor made no move to touch Loki when they went to bed. 

"Now that you know, you don't want me," Loki said. 

"Of course I do. I simply did not know if it would be welcomed." 

The sunset still lingered in the west, all fiery purples giving way to a blanket of silver stars. Loki closed his eyes to all of it. "It's the only time I can forget." 

Thor did his duty until they both forgot and gave themselves up to it, and when it was over they remembered. 

In the morning Thor set up a new loom. The pegs were as far apart as the width of his thumbs, the long threads making a loose and open weave as he worked. It took him two days to finish the weaving. When the piece was done he worked together one long side of it into a broad cone which he lashed to a forking tree branch. 

Loki sat numbly and watched him work. "I could have woven that more quickly. I am more accustomed to the loom, you should have asked me to do that," he said when it was done. 

"The time for saying that was when I started," Thor pointed out. There was no heat to his words; now that Loki had told him of it, he showed little inclination to anything besides sitting on a rock or lying in their bed, staring at the sky. If he let himself think at all - which he was trying very hard not to do - Loki's emotions worried him more than Loki's condition. "But it does not matter." 

"I didn't know what you were doing. No, I did. I just... I didn't think. I don't know." 

"Do not worry yourself. I am going to catch you fish." 

Thor took his net to the pool. Loki followed. "It has grown full," he said. It was true. Two years of trapping all the fish that teemed in the river and letting them grow meant Thor needed little practice before he was taking them up in his net and swimming to the rocky outcrop where Loki sat staring. Thor watched, counting the many heartbeats before Loki blinked. He handed the largest ones up and returned the rest to the water. 

Thor took much longer than he needed to catch their meal, his mind reeling and churning. There were so many things which must be known which they did not know. So many fatal mistakes that they did not know to avoid. He vaguely remembered hearing, back in the Below, that babies could die if they were laid incorrectly in their cribs, but he could not remember what was correct. It was easy to believe. 

He vaguely remembered hearing that when children were born, even unsure parents became sure and happy. That was harder to believe than what he had heard about the cribs. 

He finally decided that he had taken too long to take any longer, and he hauled himself up to sit next to Loki. He felt the lack of Loki's eyes on his dripping body. It made him think of his first lost tooth, when he was just a boy, how he had never given his teeth a second's thought beyond knowing that he must keep them clean, yet the moment the first one wiggled itself free he found himself constantly toying with the gap, fitting his tongue through and staring at himself in the mirror. 

And Loki's hungry gaze had been on his body little more than a day ago. Thor wondered how hard it had been for him to pretend to be the same as he had been before it had happened. It must have been exhausting. Thor tried to remember if Loki had been sleeping more deeply, but his memory was a useless traitor, full of bits and bobs that added up to nothing. 

Thor did not hide his thoughts so well as he believed he did. Even through the heavy fog that clung to him, blurring body and mind both and making even sitting into a chore, he could see the waves of concern as they poured forth. Loki turned to look at the waterfall. Yes, that. It was like that. It was why he had kept lying to Thor even when he gave up lying to himself. It beat at him until he feared he might break. 

"It's all right to talk about it," Loki said. 

Thor wondered how he should answer. Should he tell Loki of his own worries, that they might face their uncertain future together? Or was it better, perhaps, to hide them, to offer a solid support for Loki when he was taken by his own fears? For whatever Thor felt, and as determined as he was to aid in every way he could... he could only help so much. "I want to take care of you. Both of you. But I do not know how," he admitted. 

"It takes care of itself, all too well," Loki answered. 

"Then you alone. I want to take care of you." 

And that was what he held to, in the days that came after. His fears clung to his mind as determinedly as the... as that which clung to Loki. He ignored them. He could do nothing for the one, but he could do everything for the other. He gathered more leaves to make their bed softer and thicker, offering comfort to Loki's back. He caught fish and dried them for winter. He stripped every tree and dried all they did not eat. He cracked the cotton pods and gathered the fluff and filled jug after jug with the seeds. 

"Give me that," Loki said as he watched Thor filling a bag with the loose cotton. "I will form it." 

His skill at spinning had grown until all his threads were gleaming and perfect. The... _it_ would need clothes one day. None of this was its fault, after all. It was no one's fault. Poor judgment, on both their parts, but no fault. 

They would all pay for it, all the same. 

Thor watched Loki spin and found a fleeting sense of contentment. This moment was not so different from before, not really. "It cannot be so very hard, can it?" he asked abruptly. 

Loki paused to look up. "Can't it?" he asked. 

"Other animals just know what to do. Do you remember when Gyda had kittens?" 

Thor watched as Loki's lips curled slightly at the memory. He had come to the Below every day to watch them grow, careful to be quiet and slow beneath her wary gaze. Gyda had been an excellent mother, right from the first. _Instincts,_ Frigga had said. 

"Why should we be so different?" Thor asked. "We must have instincts as well. We will know what to do." 

Loki shrugged, but in the days that followed his eyes grew less haunted and he began to smile again. Whether it had been Thor's words, or simply the fact that he was too worn from his worrying to care any longer, Thor did not know, and did not ask. Thor hid his own remaining fears, hid his own lingering worries. He was careful to show Loki always a confident and happy face. 

At least, he did until the night when Loki woke up screaming. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation worsens.

It took Loki a moment to realize that he was the one screaming. When he did, he clenched his jaw, forcing himself into silence. 

"What is wrong?" Thor asked him. There was just enough moonlight to see Thor's face. The worry on it, the fear. 

"It hurts," Loki muttered through his teeth. 

"Is it..." 

"I don't think it can be. Too soon. Maybe it's leaving all the same." 

Thor got up. "They boil water, don’t they? I will fetch some and build the fire." 

"What for?" 

"It's what they do." 

"And what will you do with it once it is boiling?" 

Thor stilled. He did not know why they did that. He knew nothing about any of this. "What do you wish me to do?" he asked quietly. 

"Stay here. Hold my hand. Don't leave me alone." 

Loki whimpered as another jolt of pain shot through him. In the years to come, when most of these memories had been blurred by compassionate time, that was one thing he would remember. Being reduced to _whimpering_. 

Thor's grip on his hand tightened and did not let go. 

Dawn came. 

"Talk to me, Thor," Loki said. His crimson eyes burned with pain, and his skin had a gleam of sweat despite the chill in the air. 

"Of what shall I speak?" Thor asked. 

Loki shook his head. His lovely hair that usually bounced and tossed with his motions hung limp and wet. "I don't care. Anything. Just make me think of something else." 

Thor sat in thought. "Have I ever told you about the discovery of the Below?" he asked. 

"No. Tell me," Loki answered. 

"It happened a long time ago, before the ice came. It was just a normal day, except for that. A farmer was out working and he saw all these birds flying upwards. It didn't look like when they take off from the ground, they were all turned around different ways, flying full speed. He left his work to go over to where he saw them, and he found this crack in the earth. It wasn't much. If it weren't for the birds, he'd just have thought it was a dry patch. But all those birds said otherwise, and they had to have been there for a reason. Birds don't just go underground. So he went home and got a shovel, and he dug, and dug, until it was opened enough to drop a torch. It lit up the walls as it fell." 

"How long before someone went inside to explore?" 

"Well, he went into town and found the king's agent, and brought her back to the farm. She dropped another torch, and saw for herself. She sent to the capital to inform the king, and by the time word got back ordering more exploration, they had widened the gap large enough to lower a man down inside." 

"The farmer?" 

"No, you would think so, since it was his land, but they sent his son, who was slender and easier to fit through." 

"And where did he find himself?" 

"In the top level, what is now the hall of the traders." 

"Did he explore?" 

"As far as the rope would let him. He got as far as what is now the hall of the bookmakers." 

"Why is that not-" Loki broke off with a hiss of pain. Thor jumped up, but Loki waved him back down. "Nothing. It just grew worse for a moment. Why is that gap not still the way? I never knew of it until today." 

"It was the main way for many years. If you go with a good light, you can see where it has been worn down with use. The new one was not made until your people came. The hall is too narrow for most of them to pass through in comfort, and it was decided to build a new opening elsewhere. It was easier than rebuilding the homes and stores of the traders who lived there." 

Loki's fingernails cut into Thor's skin as he squeezed harder. A bead of sweat dripped onto Thor's arm. 

"It is growing worse," Thor said. 

"It is," Loki admitted. "Would you carry me to the stream?" 

Thor lifted Loki as gently as he could and carried him to the edge of the water. Here, below their dam, the water coursed swiftly away. Its merry bubbling had never seemed mocking before today. Loki refused to release his grip on Thor's hand until he had been given the other. It was difficult, each of them struggled one-handed to undress him, but at last he was bare. 

It was easier to see, now that he was nude, but it was still not what Thor would consider prominent. Far smaller than what Thor remembered of those glowing Aesir women, when a new baby was soon to arrive. He realized with a start that he had never seen a pregnant Jotun before. Or perhaps he had and did not know it. 

Thor picked him back up and lowered him carefully into the shallow edge of the stream. Loki settled onto the rocks with a sigh, pressing his shoulders down to send more of the water across his chest. He turned his head to one side and drank, letting the stream rush into his mouth and swallowing in huge greedy gulps. Each one left him wanting more. 

The cold was comfort, carrying away a little of his pain and with it a little of his fear. He realized with a start that this was the first moment he had missed home since the day he took up his knife and went away. That seemed far longer ago than it was. Only two winters, three summers, but they had felt like a lifetime. They had both changed so much, taking on height and muscles, though Thor's face still bore traces of baby fat that made him scowl at his reflection when he thought Loki wasn't watching. Loki found Thor's soft cheeks and chin to be nearly as appealing as the thick arms and narrow waist. He had never said. He reached up and cupped his hand against Thor's cheek. It had been nearly smooth when they had left. Yes, it had felt like a lifetime here. And now it might be a lifetime in fact as well as feeling. 

Loki had intentionally asked for the stream rather than the pool. The pains were making it difficult to control his body, and he wasn't ready to face the added humiliation of asking Thor to carry him to their designated area. It was a little easier to bear all of this once he relieved himself, letting the swift current carry everything safely away. Perhaps the rest would slip away as easily, leave him purged and clean and free. 

It was strange, how his dreams had changed after he told Thor about _it_. They had started out so full of joy, torturing him with images of familial bliss, the three of them swaddled together in perfect happiness. When he told Thor, Thor's own confidence had been infectious. He had promised to care for Loki, to care for all of them, and the way he said it was so _determined_ that Loki found himself relaxing for the first time in a season. 

That was the time his mind began to torture him in his dreams, as though determined to be contrary, or determined to see him suffer in his sleep if nowhere else. Those horrific early visions of joy and peace had given way to nightmares of monstrous births, mutant infants clawing their way out of him or - somehow worse - limbless creatures slipping too easily free. Now it felt as though all his worst imaginings were bleeding through the veil between sleep and waking. 

Darkness fell. Thor held on. 

"Keep talking," Loki begged. 

Thor frowned in thought, searching his memory for another tale to distract. "When you visited the gardens in the Below, did I ever tell you why the linden tree was set apart?" he asked. 

Loki shook his head stiffly. "You did not." 

"It happened even longer ago than the discovery of the Below. The great hero Sifrit had slain a dragon, and he began to cook the heart for his father to feast upon. He tested it with his finger, and when he sucked at the burn and tasted the blood, he understood the language of the birds. They told him that were he to bathe in the dragon's blood, he would be protected everywhere it touched. He stripped and covered himself in the stinking ichor, but the linden tree was allied with Sifrit's enemies, and it cast a leaf onto his skin. He went on many adventures, winning glory and gold beyond reckoning, but when he returned home his enemies were there waiting for him, and he was felled by a coward who threw a spear at his back. It pierced where the leaf had covered his skin, and ran through his heart, and he fell down dead." 

Loki squeezed Thor's hand more tightly as he gathered the strength to reply. "Why did they keep the tree, when they moved Below?" 

"It is valuable for tea and wood, but it is kept away from the gardens in memory of its treachery." 

Loki nodded. "Tell me more of these," he said. 

Another dawn passed, another dusk. Thor told more tales, always holding Loki's hand. 

Until the third morning, when he let go. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperation is the mother of invention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, gosh. Looky what I found.

It had been frightening to sit and talk to Loki, telling him every tale he could dredge from his memory, feeling Loki's hand gripping his own more and more tightly as story after story ran their course as quickly as the chilly water that bit at Thor's unfeeling toes. 

It had been _terrifying_ to feel that same grip start to weaken. It had started to ease shortly after the sky had begun to flush pink. He would have thought it was good, but for the way Loki's breathing was just as harsh and trembling. By the time the sun crested the horizon, his hand was almost completely slack as it lay in Thor's broad palm. 

There was only so long Thor could be expected to sit there as Loki's strength faded. He needed action, he always had, whatever was going on; it was not in his nature to sit passively and wait for events to unfold. So he raised Loki's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the faded skin, and then he lowered it into the water and let go. Loki watched him until he rose to his feet, stiff from sitting so long and so awkwardly. Thor raised his hand, calling to Mjolnir. When she came to him, Thor turned back to the water to find Loki's eyes squeezed shut. 

He knelt. "Loki. Loki, we have to go." 

Loki gritted his teeth as something twisted inside him. _Tentacles. Claws,_ he thought. "Go where?" he asked. 

"We have to go back." If only Thor's words were half so gentle as his voice. 

"You go, if you want. Leave me here." 

A spasm crossed Thor's face, as though he were in as much pain as Loki himself was. "I cannot do that. I promised I would take care of you, and I must keep my word." 

"I release you of it. Go." 

"Loki..." Thor reached out to stroke Loki's face. His hand was hot. "Why do you wish to stay?" 

Loki huffed a tight, joyless laugh. "It's too late. Whatever this is, it's too late to stop it." 

"For you, perhaps. It's not too late for me." 

Even with all the mess and chaos churning inside him, Loki could feel his heart clench as Thor rose and walked away. He tilted his head back, letting the water rush over his face. As long as there was water on his face, he could pretend he was not crying. Left alone, helpless, in an unknown realm. His pride would not sustain him long. But perhaps, he thought, as another spasm of pain wracked through him, it would last long enough. 

He blood thudded in his ears, and he did not hear Thor's return until Thor said his name. He opened his eyes to find Thor standing there, hammer in his right arm, a bag of apples over his right shoulder and three jugs of water dangling from his scarf that was tied awkwardly around his waist. 

"Can you stand up?" Thor asked. 

Loki turned his head away. There was a sigh and a splash of water and then Thor's arms around him, lifting him out of the water. The air felt almost painfully hot. He slapped at Thor, everywhere he could reach. "I told you, it's too late," he protested. 

"And I told you that it's not too late for me. I will not give up on you," Thor said firmly. He set Loki onto his feet and shifted his grip so that his left arm was firmly around Loki's thickening waist. Mjolnir flew to his outstretched palm and then he raised her over his head and then somehow she kept going _up_ , taking Thor and Loki with her. The air rushed past them so fiercely Loki had to close his eyes. It was cooler, up here, not as good as the stream, but better than the air down below. 

Thor could have wept in relief. He had tried flying before, but they were short bursts, and with his weight alone; asking Mjolnir to carry them both had been a leap of faith, one which she had met and granted with her gleaming might. He lost track of time as they flew. He had to keep his eyes open, searching the ground for the low hills where the cleft in the rock would be found. They flew until his arm was screaming in exhaustion, and then they flew on. He did not take them down to the plain until his grip began to weaken. 

Loki opened his eyes when they touched down, peering around. "Why have you brought us here?" he asked. 

"It is a lot of weight to carry by one hand," Thor admitted. "A brief rest and some water and I shall be ready to continue." 

Loki sat, then moved onto his side, curling up as tightly as he could. 

"You should have some water, too," Thor said gently. 

Loki shook his head. "I want nothing." 

The tall grasses were thick, and he could see only a few inches in front of him. He stared numbly as he listened to Thor greedily gulping down water and devouring apple after apple. When he picked Loki up to continue on, there were two fewer jugs hanging from his waist. 

Thor's arm began to scream in pain as he raised Mjolnir over his head; the muscles had grown worse, not better, for having rested. He ignored it. There was nothing else to be done. They flew so long that dusk began to fall, and with it, Thor's hopes of finding the hills. He had watched so carefully, but the ground passed so quickly and he could _not_ keep his eyes open constantly in the wind no matter how hard he tried. 

It was when he had turned his thoughts towards finding another cold stream that he saw the hills. They were nearly invisible from above, the soft straw-colored grass blending almost seamlessly into the brownish stone. 

Thor brought them down as softly as he could, near the tallest part of the outcropping. Seen close-up, they were jagged and cracked, offering no decent clue of where to start his search. He grabbed up large handfuls of grass to make a soft bed for Loki while Thor searched. Loki barely made a sound as Thor lifted him to settle him onto it. He untied the water jugs and spread his scarf over Loki's face to protect him from the sun, refusing to consider how much like a funeral shroud it looked. 

Loki listened to the crunching of dried plants as Thor left him alone. He measured time in waves of pain. It was hot under the scarf, but when he moved it away the sun was worse. It didn't matter, now. He could feel himself fading. 

In the distance Thor began screaming and laughing in joy. The noise went on, and on, and on. 

Just before Loki lost consciousness, it stopped. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

It was Thor's own blood that spoke to him. He had paced along the jagged rock faces, walking into the wider openings, thrusting his hand into the narrower clefts. Several of the bigger ones had seemed promising, but each time, he reached a solid wall - until he found one with faint smears of blood on the stone, and he remembered how his skin had been torn away as he shoved through. He fell to his knees, gasping and screaming and laughing. Here was the way home, the way to healers who would take care of Loki and make things right. All that had gone wrong would be made right. Still frantic with joy, he went further in. He would have a litter brought to fetch Loki and carry him back. 

He got perhaps six feet into the cleft, and his shoulders would go no further. He fell into silence. Thor had not realized how much he had grown; he had only Loki for comparison, and Loki had grown as well. He sagged, letting the tight grasp of rock hold him. He allowed himself twenty breaths of despair. He dragged them out, holding each inhale until he thought he might burst, leaving his lungs empty after each exhale until he could wait no longer. And when the twenty breaths were done he set aside his hopelessness and he picked up his hammer. 

It was awkward to hammer away the rock, more difficult than he had expected. The physicality of it was not the problem; no, that part was demanding, after the terrible strain on his arm from how long they had flown, but it was bearable. What was more difficult were all the tiny flecks of stone that went flying in every direction with every strike, and the cloud of rock dust that slowly built up all around him. 

It was nearly dark by the time he broke through. He had not expected to need to spend so much time at it, thinking that surely the people in the Below would hear the sound of metal on rock and come exploring. When he found himself standing - still cramped, but able to move freely - in the widened tunnel, it was such temptation to take just a few steps more. To _see_ home, even if he would not set foot back there until Loki was with him. He did not allow it. Even were it not for the smears of blood telling him the way, he would know the smell of the lake chamber. The water itself had a brightness to its scent that few things Below ever had, fed as it was by the tiny cracks in the roof that allowed fresh snows to drift down inside, melting as they floated into the high chamber. 

He took a deep breath, letting _home_ fill his lungs, and turned back to get Loki. 

Loki was aware of Thor's voice before he knew he was awake. "No, no, no. Loki. _Loki!_ " His eyelids were so heavy as he opened them. "You stay with me," Thor said. His voice burned and his face was tight. 

It took everything Loki had to answer. "I don't know if I can. I'm sorry," he said. 

His eyes were already falling shut even as he spoke. By the time Thor picked him up - no apples or water, now, Loki could feel the change in his gait - he was too far lost to respond. Thor carried him a while and when he set him down; this time there was no soft grass. The air was cooler and he wondered vaguely if he were dead and if Thor had placed him, so gently, so lovingly, into his grave. That would explain the warm tears that fell onto his face. 

It didn't explain why Thor began dragging him, though. The ground was rocky and he could feel it cutting his skin but he didn't care. And then Thor was picking him up again, hissing at the sight of his back. "I'm so sorry, I know that hurt, it was the only way I could get you through," he said, and then there was cool water all around him. It wasn't as cold as their stream, but nor did it make cheerful noises to taunt him. He felt Thor's massive arm wrap around his chest and then he was being pulled through the water, and then he was lifted out, and there was shouting but before he could follow what was being said, he was gone. 

***** 

Thor shouted for help the moment he carried Loki's limp form from the lake chamber out into the street. There was not a huge amount of activity down here in the lowest level, lined with storage rooms, and he kept yelling as he made his way up. It wasn't until he reached the lowest residential level that someone heard him and came running. It was a woman, her light footsteps telling of it before she came into view and stopped short. "My prince?" she said hesitantly. 

He nodded. "Can you fetch aid? We need a litter and bearers to take Loki to the Above." Loathe as he was to let go for a single second, he was even less willing to waste the time it would take to cover himself in the necessary furs. 

The woman nodded and turned back at a run. From here, there was only one way to the gates, and he continued upwards until the bearers came to find him. The men chosen for this task were massive, their muscles bulging from the labor of carrying heat-weary Jotuns through the Below. Thor realized with a start that they did not look huge anymore; he looked them in the eye as he gave quick orders to have Loki taken to the gates and given over to his people. Once Loki was settled into the litter, Thor leaned over him. "I will follow as quickly as I can. I am not going to leave you." He ordered the bearers to go at a run. 

Word of his return had preceded him, and halfway to the royal residence his parents found him. His mother threw her arms around him. His father did not. 

"We thought you dead, lost in the ice wastes," Frigga said. 

"And to think you were merely hiding in the storage chambers. How much have you stolen, to keep yourselves alive so long?" asked Odin. 

Thor's back stiffened. Frigga pulled back, patting his arm in reassurance. "We stole nothing. We found a new realm and fared for ourselves." 

"Fared so well that Loki is nearly dead, I hear," his father bit out. " Did you bother sparing a thought for the future of our peace with the Jotuns if he dies?" 

"We didn't know-" 

Odin interrupted him with a brusque wave of his hand. Thor hated it no less than he had before. "Ignorance is the weakest of excuses. Things have been tense enough when we thought you both dead. Now we have found out that this was all nothing more than the selfish whims of a vain and thoughtless boy, and I do not like to think on how Laufey will respond. If this is the death of our people, it will be on your heads." 

"The only way this will bring death is through the foolishness of two old men," Thor shouted. "The new realm is fertile enough for us all." 

"Get out of my sight. Go after him and do whatever Laufey wants, and try to mend what you have broken." Odin turned away in disgust. 

"I've sent Tyr ahead of you. He and Laufey have ever gotten on well together, and I hope that he might help smooth your way," Frigga said. Her voice was low, quiet enough Odin would not hear her as he stormed off. "Have hope, my son. This is not yet over." 

Thor smiled at her, hoping that it didn't look as weak as it felt. He realized with a start that he was looking down at her. When he had left, he had had to look up to meet her eyes. "Will you help me find clothes to wear above? I doubt my old things will fit so well as once they did." 

"Of course. And as we go you shall tell me of this new realm. While your father is not ready to hear of it, I must learn all I can." Her voice was brittle as she spoke, before beginning the long upwards walk back home. 

"You are angry," Thor said, falling into step beside her. 

"Of course," she said again. 

"But Loki had to leave. You heard what they were threatening, did you not?" 

"And you believed Laufey would allow such a thing? Neither of you thought to ask before you ran?" 

"My only thought was to find him. I do not know what he did before leaving." 

He watched her jaw tighten. "Tell me of the new realm." 

"We found a field and a forest when first we went through. It took many days of walking to find water, and we lived on the fruits that grew at the line between trees and grass; they had enough juice to sustain us. We finally found a wide stream, and made our home beside it." 

"How many days was the walk to this stream?" Frigga asked. 

"Perhaps forty," he answered. He paused to wait for more questions, but she nodded at him to continue. "We made our home there. Loki found a good tree bark to make a tent that would protect me from the winter, and we learned what roots where good to eat, and what greens. Mother, I think we found mint. Leaves like hearts and a cold sharp taste, just like the books said. We also found a field of huge pink flowers that gave oily seeds and fiber, and we spun it and Loki wove it into warm clothes for me while I built a dam to trap the small fish in the stream." 

He glanced over at her, reading her expression. It was clear that she was no less angry. Equally clearly, though, he had ensnared her interest, as he had known he would. She was far too curious and intelligent not to be caught up in his words, her mind a rapid brush painting the scenes that Thor described. 

We found clay and made jugs to carry water as we explored, and built a cabin. Our life was becoming very good there." 

"Until Loki fell ill, and you knew nothing to aid him," she said sharply. 

The crowd was growing thick, lining the streets and gaping at the sight of their prodigal prince. He fell silent, not speaking again until they were in the privacy of her hall. 

Thor gathered his courage. His new height had not made her one whit less intimidating when she was angry. "Loki is not ill. He is pregnant," he said softly. 

Her face went tight with a new flush of anger. "Then find your furs and go. Do as your father said, and follow Tyr's lead, and hope against hope that it is enough." 

Thor opened his mouth to ask a question, but before he could speak, she was gone in a whirl of skirts. He rummaged through the wardrobes, trying on garment after garment until he found a set large enough to have him sufficiently covered. 

It was odd to be back home, a place he never thought to see again, and even odder to leave it so quickly. The people still lined the streets. A sursurrence rustled through the crowd, his ears snatching up the merest fragments of their whispers as they watched him go. 

Thor reached the gates and found an escort waiting for him, as though he could have forgotten his way to the palace, the way he had walked so often, for so many years. He walked proudly between them, trying to pretend he was something other than a prisoner. 

Laufey awaited him at the door to the palace. "Foolish boy," he hissed. "Did you think the rule was made without reason?" 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the healer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, over the weekend I changed my mind on the plot direction for the rest of this. It's got a happier ending but the road there is darker, so please do check the newly added notes and make sure you're okay with them.

It was not until that instant that it fully hit him how different their peoples were. Though the Jotuns lived in the Above and the Aesir in the Below, they mingled so much that Thor had never really given thought to it. Even the fact that Jotuns had blue skin and red eyes... well, some Aesir had red hair and some blonde, and they had so many different eye colors. It wasn't that Thor didn't _notice_ the differences between them - of course he saw what was right before his eyes - but he had never really thought on it before. It was simply how they were. Even the fact that they received their nutrition wholly differently had not given him pause for thought. Why, Thor's own mother had a tendency to anemia, and she had to take extra iron with her food. And now he was forced to recognize all he had ignored. That different species cannot always mix so easily as wine and water. 

This time, Thor did not point out that they did not know. Nor did he answer _we were drunk,_ for that seemed no better. "We love each other," he said, and it too was the truth. 

"Oh, well then. I'm sure that will save Loki's life where none before have survived," Laufey spat. 

The iron hand around Thor's heart somehow clenched tighter. "We did not know," he said then, not knowing what else to say. 

"And your ignorance will kill my son." 

"We... it was together. We chose it together." 

"You find it unfair that you alone suffer my wrath? Well, so you shall. My son already suffers enough." Laufey's voice shook on the last word, and Tyr came out of the shadows. 

"Let us go sit with him," Tyr said gently, taking Laufey's hand. "All three of us. Perhaps he may take comfort from having both of you there." 

Loki was on the narrow bed in the healer's chamber. A cloth covered him up to his waist. His skin looked even grayer in the cold light of the Above. A tube ran into his arm from a bag hanging high up. 

"Loki," Thor breathed, sinking to his knees and clasping a limp hand. It was clammy against his skin. 

"Tell me what has already been tried," the healer ordered him. Sigurd, Thor remembered. 

"Seidr," Thor said. "Many noxious fruits, and one fall." 

"Can you cut it out of him?" Laufey asked abruptly. 

"I can try," Sigurd said. His voice was grim. "I do not know what will happen." 

Laufey nodded. "I will sit with him for a time, first." He took the chair on the far side of the bed, as though trying to put himself as far from Thor as he could. Tyr stood behind him, his hand resting on his shoulder as Laufey sat and gazed on his son's wasted face. 

Thor stayed on his knees, clinging to Loki's hand as though he would never let go. He was not aware of time passing until Laufey rose. "Do your best," he told Sigurd. The healer bowed gracefully as Laufey and Tyr left the room. 

"May I stay with him?" Thor asked. 

"You will be in the way." Thor's knees ached as he stood and leaned over Loki. "I love you," he whispered, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He thought he could see Loki's eyelashes flutter at his words. 

Laufey was pacing in the room outside, following the path worn in the stone by royals from the time Thor's own family lived here. Tyr walked with him. Thor took a chair in the corner, pulling his feet close to stay out of Laufey's way. 

Time passed, the clock on the wall ticking away the seconds like ceaseless drops of blood. Tyr whispered into Laufey's ear and left the room. Laufey paced on, alone. 

When Tyr returned, a servant was following him with a tray of food. "You must eat, lords," Tyr said. 

The servant set the tray down. They all, even Tyr, ignored it. 

The sounds of Laufey's feet and the ticking clock and Thor's own breath were maddening. He nearly barked a laugh. 

Tick, tock, step, in, tick, tock, step, out. And on. 

Sigurd was grim when he entered."I could not even make a single cut. My blades shattered against his skin." He turned to glare at Thor. "It seems to have inherited both your stubbornness." 

"What now?" Laufey demanded. 

"I will try to keep him stable and comfortable. Medicine has improved since the last occurrence. Perhaps it has improved enough." 

"I wish to sit with him." 

"Of course, Lord." Sigurd bowed as Laufey swept past him. Tyr caught up to him with swift steps, and Thor followed them silently. Loki's face looked more peaceful, at least. "He is still under the anaesthesia. He is in no pain. When it wears off, I will continue with other pain medications." 

They returned to their places as though they had never left. Thor's knees now hurt as much as his arm. He ignored it all. He watched Loki's chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, and that was all he cared about. He sent all his will into Loki's lungs, keeping him going for the next few seconds. 

Night had fallen (days seemed different here, Thor realized with a shock) when Tyr leaned forwards to speak quietly in Laufey's ear. "You must eat and rest. It will do him no good if you collapse. You survived his disappearance for the sake of the realm, and now you must survive this." 

"I have grown sick of the realm," Laufey said. Thor looked at him and found his eyes were as numb as his voice. 

"And yet you have your duty, all the same." 

Laufey nodded his grudging acceptance and rose, letting Tyr lead him out. 

"Might I stay the night?" Thor asked Sigurd. "I promised not to leave him." 

"Give me your arm. I need blood," Sigurd said, ignoring the question. 

"What for?" Thor asked. 

"I had an idea I wish to test. I need to examine your blood... if I am right, I may be able to save him." 

Thor was taken aback. "Why didn't you tell Laufey?" he asked. 

"Because I do not yet know if it will help, and I will not raise his hopes and then break his heart. It has already suffered enough," Sigurd answered with a glare. 

"And my heart?" Thor asked. 

"It was your heart that put him there dying." He was not gentle with the needle. 

Thor watched, half-dazed, as the vial filled up. When it was full, Sigurd took the needle out with even less care. Thor could see it already beginning to bruise. "Is there any way I might aid you?" he asked. "I will do anything." 

"Keep an eye on him. Tell me if anything - _anything_ \- happens." If Thor had thought his offer might soften the healer, he was wrong. 

He pulled Laufey's chair around to where he had been kneeling, ready to give his knees a rest and determined to watch both Loki and Sigurd as best he could. Loki's hand had lost some of its clamminess, at least. 

Sigurd put the vial in a small chamber and pumped something with his foot that set it spinning. When he stopped it and took it out, it had separated into a clear yellowish layer and a thick red one. Thor dropped gentle kisses onto Loki's fingertips as he watched the healer sit down at a bench against the wall. Sigurd's back was to the room, so Thor could see only the things he reached for - a long thick needle attached to a squat syringe, a vial, a dish. Thor stayed still and silent, careful not to interrupt. Only the minute shifts of his arms and even slighter motions of his head showed that he was awake and working intently. 

Thor was startled out of an exhausted daze when Sigurd rose and moved to another bench. He could watch now, as Sigurd slid a pair of thin glass plates into a microscope and leaned over it to peer inside. Thor nearly forgot to breathe as knobs were adjusted, the mirror reflecting the light pivoted, until... 

Sigurd leaned back with a sigh. "That may just be it," he murmured. 

"You can save him?" Thor asked. He rose to his feet barely aware he was moving, tiredness lost in the face of hope. 

"Give me your other arm, I need more this time." 

Thor didn't even feel the needle this time, though it was larger and Sigurd had grown no gentler. He watched as the blood was drained out of him. Sigurd did not spin these vials, instead pouring them into a large beaker and mixing in a dizzying array of things - carefully measured powders, and single drops of certain fluids, and what looked very much like another vial of blood that he knew was not his. 

Finally Sigurd filled a syringe from the beaker and rose. His face was grim, his jaw clenched so hard he looked like he might break his teeth. Thor watched him take two long deep breaths before approaching the bed, but once he began to move it was with swift and decisive gestures. He thrust the needle into the tube that ran into Loki's arm and pushed it in. 

Thor felt faintly dizzy as he watched his blood whirl into the clear liquid dripping into Loki, little red spirals that blurred into pink and then were gone as the high-hung bag continued its feed. 

Sigurd nodded. "There. I will be sleeping next door. Wake me if anything occurs. In the meantime, do your duty." 

" _What?_ " Thor could not have been more stunned if Laufey had burst into the room in sequins and a top hat. "He's-" He gestured at Loki's limp form. 

"Why in the world did you think you were being allowed to stay? His nutritional needs didn't just magically disappear." 

"Oh... I see." Thor stared at the ground as Sigurd put a large bottle of medicinally-scented lubricant next to the bed left the room, dimming the lights to a sickening mockery of romance. 

All the fear and exhaustion that he had held off for so long punched into him with the sound of the door latching shut. It wasn't right, not with Loki unconscious like this. And he was starting to suspect that time passed differently here than it had in their new realm; he had no real idea how long he had been awake, but it was far too long for _that._ Even were he interested - eager - there was no way his weary body would obey him to such an extent without rest. 

It was wrong... and yet without it, Loki would grow even weaker. Loki needed his strength for whatever Sigurd was doing. 

He got up with a sigh and turned the lights off. He walked back slowly to the bed, hands outstretched for obstacles. The first thing he met was the mattress, and he eased Loki's body so very gently to one side of the bed and curled up next to him. 

"Loki, please, please, wake up. I miss you," he murmured into Loki's hair. It felt softer and thicker than ever. He would be stronger in the morning. He would make himself be strong and do his duty and try his best not to be sick at the feeling of using Loki's helpless body. 

At least, that was the plan. But the first thing he saw when he woke up was red. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Loki knew the pain before he even knew he was awake. Once he dragged himself a little further into consciousness, though, he realized that it seemed to have ebbed slightly. That discovery was quickly followed by surprise at being alive. He opened his eyes to find Thor sleeping next to him, the planes of his face kissed by the gray light of early morning. He watched for what felt like hours. 

Thor woke and met Loki's warm red eyes as relief flooded through him. 

"Thor." Loki's voice sounded tired, but it was _real_ , he was awake and alive and talking to Thor right now, this very second. 

"Loki." 

They lay there staring at one another like their eyes could never get enough. Thor put his hand on Loki's cheek and Loki smiled at Thor and Thor smiled at Loki. And to think he had gone to sleep doubting he would ever smile again. 

"How do you feel?" Thor asked. 

"Terrible," Loki admitted. "But I'm alive." 

"I told you it was not too late for me." 

"You did." 

Loki's eyes fell shut, but he was still smiling. He was not too tired to smile at Thor. Even better, he still wanted to smile at Thor. Thor scooted towards him and ghosted a kiss across those smiling lips. 

Loki sighed happily, and Thor kissed him again. He parted his lips and Thor's tongue slipped between, hot and thick and Loki's was moving forward to meet it when he was hit with a cramp so bad he bit down in shock. 

Thor jerked back at the sharp snap of teeth. "I'm sorry. I did not think you would mind-" 

"No, no," Loki panted, pressing a hand to his belly. "It was not you. A pain. It is beginning to ease now." In truth it was not easing the slightest bit, but once he had a few seconds to adjust it was slightly easier to bear. "Where are we?" 

"In the Above, in the healing chamber of your father's palace." 

"Yes, of course. I remember now... the color of the light. It's so different here." 

"Shall I fetch Sigurd? He told me to fetch him if you had any changes." 

A wave of dizziness washed over Loki, the sort he had not felt in ages, since he was brought out of his malnutrition. "No, not yet. Oh, Thor, I'm so dreadfully hungry," Loki said, reaching for him. 

Thor kissed him again, tactfully keeping his lips shut and his tongue safely behind his own teeth. "I'll lock the door." 

"Yes, do," Loki urged. 

It had been - was it only four days? It felt so much longer - long enough that Loki was tight, so tight as Thor had only known once before, and even pain-weary he responded as he was not able to, that time. It took so long to open him, so deliciously long and each time Loki's whispered urged him to speed it only made him slow down and take longer, his teasing tongue tapping and circling and prodding until Thor himself was sobbing in frustration before he slid it in, licking so delicately at the smooth soft walls that fluttered against him, making Loki keen. 

There was a sharp rap on the door. "Thor!" Sigurd demanded. "Open this!" 

"Go away," Thor answered. 

"Open this now!" The door thudded as the healer threw his considerable bulk against it. 

"He said go away!" Loki ordered. 

Silence. 

"There. He'll be calling for my father, now. Ignore them," Loki breathed. 

Pain and desire warred within him, sharp stabbings in his belly still urging him to curl up tight and stretch out long and find somewhere colder and somehow outrun this treacherous body. Yet it had not been quite so bad until they were interrupted, when Thor was distracting him into delirium with his wickedly skilled tongue. He shifted his weight from his chest to his palms so that he could twist his neck and stare back at Thor over his shoulder, past his high-arching back to meet Thor's eyes. "Go on." 

For all Thor had ignored Loki's previous demands, at least this one he obeyed to the letter, parting the firm blue globes of Loki's ass and running a broad stripe between. Loki moaned and Thor watched in satisfaction as his head sank back to the pillow. Thor drew it out as long as he could, torturing himself with the anticipation of it, before he at last sank back to sit on his heels and replace his probing tongue with an equally inquisitive finger. 

He could never get over how _soft_ Loki was inside, and he gave himself over to careful exploration, sliding slowly inwards and feeling the tense muscles relaxing around him as he pressed deeper in. Loki bucked his hips back with a sound of frustration that only served to make Thor go slower still. Whatever distraction or comfort this offered, he would see that it lasted. When he was fully in he twisted his hand. The smooth walls shifted to accommodate him, grasping him tightly. His knuckles pressed slightly into Loki's skin and made it go paler blue from the pressure. It was impossible to know what was more gorgeous and he slid in a second finger, feeling his cock jerk sharply in response to Loki's gasp of surprised pleasure. His ring had started to go paler, too. It was normally darker than the rest of his skin, a rich violet that went lighter and brighter when it was stretched until it was like a ring of sapphire taut around Thor's cock, more precious than any jewel. 

"Please, Thor, I need it," Loki panted. 

"I know, I know," Thor soothed. "But you've gotten so tight. Can't you feel how tight you've become? I would not add to your pain." 

Loki did not answer. From the puckers that appeared in the pillowcase, Thor rather suspected Loki was biting it. 

He twisted his fingers, going half dizzy at the sight of Loki's body responding to his motions. The muscles in his back were almost rippling with tension, and the hands that had been resting on the bedsheets were now fisting them so tightly the veins in the backs of his hands began to rise. The sound Loki made when he gave a third finger could almost have made Thor come, were he not so intent on his task. He could feel it inside when Loki deepened the arch in his back. "Oh, Loki, you're-" he said. Loki nodded his head frantically in answer and began to rock back rhythmically onto Thor's fingers. 

He took it as long as he could, the soft wet feel of Loki sliding and clenching at him and the sight of his ring stretching out each time his knuckles went through it and the sounds of slickness and panted breaths. Yes, he took it as long as he could, but with the very essence of temptation before him, mewling and panting and undulating, he couldn't take it forever, and he pulled his fingers free, giving a shaking laugh at Loki's sound of complaint, and brought his cock into place and slid himself home. 

Loki surged back to meet him, the air hissing between his teeth as the head of Thor's cock hit right against his sweet spot as it pressed in. He pulled back and thrust in again, hitting it _just right_ again, and Loki cried out. Thor's hands tightened on his hips, holding him still, keeping him perfectly in place to hit it over and over and Loki was clawing at the bed and babbling the most exquisite obscenities and promises, and he felt so good inside, tight burning-slick silk grasping at his cock and he reached down to take Loki's in his hand, to share something of what Loki was working on him. 

Thor's cock felt huge, the stretch so deliciously close to too much, each thrust dragging across the tight little bundle of nerves that never failed to set him alive, and he was close, so painfully close that when he felt Thor let go of his hip he knew what was coming and he was so sure that that would do it, and it _didn't_. He sank his teeth into the pillow, snarling his frustration into the wet fabric. He needed to come more desperately than he had ever needed, not just the physical release but an escape, even for a moment, from the awareness of his pain and fear and confusion, and it was so close he could taste it and he _couldn't_. 

"Thor! Thor, I need more," Loki said. His panted words sounded wet and worrisome. 

"Anything, tell me," Thor answered. He was getting close, too, there was no way to help it after going without for days, but he did not want to let go without Loki joining him. 

Loki fumbled blindly for the hand that remained on his hip and pulled it forwards, pushing Thor's broad fingers where he needed them to be. 

"Are you sure?" Thor asked. 

"What else can it do now?" Loki panted. "We've already-" 

Loki's words broke off with a gasp as Thor sank his fingers inside. He was already so full, if he hadn't been so wet it would have been impossible, and Thor could feel himself through the delicate tissues that separated his fingers and cock. "Yes, please, please Thor that, that, Thor, I'm so close," he begged, only half aware he was even speaking. 

Thor withdrew, nearly all the way, everywhere. Loki was just about to turn and glare when Thor _gave_ , gave everything at once, thrusting forwards and sliding in and stroking firmly and he did it again and the third time Loki came, writhing and thrashing and he was free, free of everything but this moment and this blinding intensity and Thor's movements went jerky and erratic and then he was coming too, and they were together and for just that little while nothing else mattered. 

Even when it was over, and they were nestled in each other's arms letting their ragged breathing slow, Loki felt better. The pain had eased, and with it, some of the fear. 

They gave themselves perhaps ten minutes to savor their closeness before Thor rose and dressed, pulled the sheets back over Loki, and unlocked the door. 

Laufey sat on one of the long benches while Sigurd paced the room. The king was slumped against the wall, and the hollows under his eyes gave Thor a fresh pang of guilt. Laufey had always been kind to him when he visited the Above, back before they had left. 

"He is better this morning," Thor told them. 

Sigurd's face lit up with hope. Laufey's relief only made him seem more exhausted. They entered the healing chamber and Laufey sat next to Loki while Sigurd took Loki's pulse, his temperature, the color of his eyes. 

Thor stood politely aside as Laufey took Loki's hand, leaning forwards to speak with him as though no one else were in the room. 

"I never thought to see you again," he said. His voice shook and Thor stared at the ceiling, blinking. 

"I never thought to be back," Loki answered. 

"When you left I thought you dead." 

Loki squeezed his hand. "We did well in our new home," he said, glancing over at Thor. "Thor and I took care of each other." 

Laufey looked over his shoulder. "Why is he still here?" he asked Sigurd. 

"Loki has needs that the drip won't meet," the healer answered. 

Loki blushed softly. Thor was glad to see it, glad to know Loki had the strength in him to care. 

They remained in their places for hours, Sigurd on one side of the bed and Laufey on the other, Thor standing back and his eyes and Loki's never letting go. Near midday, when the room was at its brightest, Loki spoke. 

"I need to sleep," he said. "I can't sleep when you're like that." 

Sigurd bowed and withdrew to the outer chamber. Laufey rose and ran his palm gently over Loki's forehead before turning, waiting pointedly for Thor to leave first. 

"I'll be right outside. Call me if you want me," Thor said. 

Laufey's eyes narrowed at Thor's back. 

They stood uneasily, listening for Loki to call them, until Tyr came to tear Laufey away. "Come eat. You do him no good if you don't care for yourself," he pointed out. 

Once they were alone, Thor was able to ask his questions. "Loki is better now, yes? He seems so much better." 

"His pain is eased. I gave him something to help that," Sigurd said, staring at the floor. 

"But that's not all... what you did, it helped him, right? It made him safe?" 

Sigurd seemed to shrink. "Others have lasted until the birth. None have lasted through it." 

But Loki was different, Thor knew. He was so strong, much stronger than any of them knew, and he hadn't seemed better when Thor went to sleep despite the pain treatments. No, it had to be Sigurd's experiment. Loki would be well. 

Thor held to that thought through the rest of the day. Loki called for him before Laufey returned, and he was able to spend the rest of the day sitting by the bed, holding Loki's hand. When they curled up to sleep, Thor whispered in his ear. "You're going to be different, Loki. You're going to be the one who lives." 

It was a nice thought. But for the second day in a row, Thor woke up seeing red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, that was really mean of me.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm... enjoy?

Thor's hands were being tied behind his back and he could barely see for fury. Loki was grabbing at him, clinging to him but there were more guards holding him down as Thor was torn away and dragged from the room. He could hear Loki calling after him, and he yelled back as he struggled. There were simply too many guards for him to fight them off. He was tempted to call Mjolnir but was afraid she would cause such damage in her haste to his hands that the palace might collapse and Loki would be harmed. 

"What are you doing with him?" Loki demanded. 

The guard who was pinning his shoulders answered him. "Your father wishes to visit you without the Aesir prince in his sight. Thor will be brought to you when you need him." 

"I need him now!" Loki insisted. 

"Not that sort of need, lord," the guard said, looking faintly embarrassed. 

"Oh," Loki answered flatly. "And where will he be in the meanwhile?" 

"In the dungeon, lord. He will be held there when he is not with you." 

"For how long?" No one answered. " _How long_?" 

"Until..." 

Laufey's voice rose above the sound of the guards' shuffling feet. "Until it is known whether he has killed you." 

"The responsibility is not his alone. Nor would his death ease your heart," Loki spat. 

"It is law, Loki. Remember our lessons together? Some rules even kings must obey. The life of the heir is precious." 

As though Thor were not an heir in his own right. 

Loki sighed and closed his eyes. His father sat down and spoke to him. First he cited specific laws - the oldest ones first, traditions that had become formalized into doctrine over long years' practice; then he talked about the charters and treaties drawn up when the Jotuns had first come here, in which both peoples agreed on the regulations that would govern any conflicts between them. When Loki did not soften, he began to talk of his own feelings. How it had nearly destroyed him to lose Farbauti, and how his love for Loki had been what kept him strong. The agony of his only child's disappearance, and how much he had longed to disappear after him (as he thought) into the ice wastes. How it felt to have to carry on as normal for the sake of the realm and their people. The brief relief when he was told that Loki had returned, before he was told of his dire condition, followed by this fresh new pain. 

Loki lay unmoving. The words poured into his ear with no response. 

"Say something, Loki," Laufey eventually pleaded. 

"Sigurd. I need to be alone. My father is making me sick," he said. 

***** 

The days took on a queasy monotony. Laufey sat with Loki every spare second he could of every single day. He would hold onto Loki's hand until his arm cramped from the lack of motion, murmuring the same useless words day in day out. 

The kitchens prepared the foods he had favored as a child. He found them overly salted after years of tasting no salt but that licked from Thor's skin, overly sweet after years of nothing sweeter than pears and cherries. He ate his childish puddings and dreamed of being back home (for now that he was again in the above, he realized that at some moment while they were away, _home_ had become their little camp by the waterfall) and savoring Thor's cherry-flavored kisses. He said nothing about his dissatisfaction with the food. Inge was sending him his care in the only way he could. It reminded him of when he was little, when Farbauti died. The head cook was too low-born to speak his condolences to the bereft child left suddenly motherless, but Loki could taste it in every bite of custard, every slice of his favorite roasts. Those same foods appeared to him now and Loki ate them. He would save his displeasure for those who were deserving. 

Sigurd refused to release him back to his own chambers, even though he seemed stronger each day. "I need to keep a close eye on you," he said. Loki was not entirely sure he believed it. He did not believe that was all, rather. Each evening, after Laufey had left Sigurd would put something red into the line that fed into his arm. He never seemed quite willing to answer Loki's questions about it, stating that it was a 'therapeutic treatment' and when Loki pressed, he would retreat into jargon. Still, the nights that Thor was not brought to him, Sigurd slept on a floor mat at Loki's side, so perhaps there was some margin of truth, though it seemed Sigurd could have slept on the floor of his chambers just as well. 

Thor was brought to him every second night, and he was allowed to remain until dawn. Sigurd would leave them alone after he saw all the red stuff drain into Loki's arm, and then Thor would move from the chair at Loki's side up to the bed, settling on his side so he could dust easy kisses onto Loki's shoulder as they talked. They would hold tight to one another, not sparing a second to sleep, and whisper for hours, careful to keep their voices low enough that Sigurd would not hear and scold them. 

At first, Thor refused to talk about himself until he had been told how Loki was doing. Loki seemed irritated by this, and would answer in the briefest terms, his voice terse and tight. "And you?" he would demand. 

It did not take long for Thor to realize that Loki would happily answer his questions in detail once Loki's own curiosity had been satisfied. And in truth, Loki too was a prisoner. Even though he had a window - a high, narrow one, meant to let in the light while keeping out the cold, and showing nothing more than dull gray sky - where Thor was underground, Loki was in fact kept in a smaller prison than Thor's. Thor at least had the walk between the dungeon and the healing chambers, and he quickly began to watch for the slightest changes to report. 

"They are repainting the halls of the floor below," he said one night as he slid between the cool sheets. 

"What color?" Loki asked. 

"Orange," Thor told him. 

Loki made a pained sound and Thor sat up. "Do you need more medicine? Shall I fetch Sigurd?" he asked. 

"No. Just... orange walls," Loki said with a huff of laughter. It brushed across Thor's skin and made his throat go tight. He blinked his eyes before they could grow too wet. 

"Not that sort of orange. Remember back home, those times we would stay up so late the dawn saw us to our sleep?" 

Loki gave a happy sigh and nestled against Thor's flank, resting a cool arm across his stomach. Thor's body responded, as it always did. It made him feel monstrous, that his body would react with lust to such a weakened figure. The fact that it did them both good did far too little to assuage his guilt, so he spoke on. 

"Remember how the sky would glow that soft pink?" 

"It was almost the pink of the cotton flowers," Loki murmured. 

"It was. And then just before the sun came up, the sky right above it would take on this pale, radiant orange? It used to take my breath away." 

"Mine too," Loki said. "I miss it." 

"So do I." Thor kissed his hair. Some of it had shed in recent months, but it was still glossy and beautiful. "Shall I tell you about today's spider races?" he asked, forcing his voice into a brightness he didn't feel. 

Loki laughed quietly. "Yes, do," he said. 

Thor had started catching the spiders in his cell and racing them, trying to keep himself busy. It was difficult for one so accustomed to self-sufficiency and action to spend so much time sitting and waiting, and anything - even catching and annoying the other residents of the dungeons - was a welcome distraction. 

And Thor would tell him about who won, who lost, and who didn't even compete in that day's races. Some days he found more competitors than others; one painfully boring day, there had been only one spider, and it refused to run when he blew gently across it. 

The stories were threadbare, but they made Loki laugh all the same. They offered the only escape he could find until he turned to face Thor and leaned towards him and silenced him with eager kisses. Loki would tear at Thor's clothes, shoving them roughly away. Sometimes a button would refuse to open and Loki would sob and they would both pretend it was in frustration. 

They would undress each other and Thor would kiss him and touch him and make him forget and in the morning he would be taken away so Laufey would not have to see him. 

Loki never grew particularly large, and even when Sigurd drew Thor to the side to whisper that it was close now, it was hard to believe. But then the time came when it was Laufey, not a guard, who came to fetch him from the dungeon. 

"If I am to watch my child die, you will watch with me," he said. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Thor followed Laufey through the winding halls. Were he less afraid for Loki, he might have found a grim pleasure in the sight of the king hitting his head on the low wooden beams, never designed for a Jotun's height. The upper stories, where the royal family lived, had high ceilings from the days when Asgard was warm, and the doors had long ago been reframed. There was little to be done about the dungeons, though in recent years they had been used for little more than children's games of hiding and finding. Thor and Loki had played here themselves, long ago. 

When they came out into the day-lit rooms, it took his eyes a long time to adjust. He had not seen sunlight in sixty-four days. 

Thor was still blinking furiously when they heard the first screams, and they sped up in unison. They found Loki covered in sweat and trying to kick Sigurd in the head. He took one of Loki's hands. Laufey tried to take the other, but Loki tore it away from him and grabbed for Thor. 

The birth was noisy and bloody and terrifying and when it was over Loki was still alive. 

Thor was leaning over him, laughing with relief and showering his face with kisses when Sigurd gently touched his arm and held out their wailing child, wrapped in a soft blanket. "It's a girl," he said. 

"Those happen," Thor agreed, still laughing. He had not dared let himself imagine what their child might look like, though he had nightmares enough that all of Loki's illness might be etched into the tiny visage. Loki, he knew, had dreamt worse. Yet now that Loki was alive, he knew he could bear anything; if their child was a monster, well, she would be their monster and they would love her all the same. He folded back the heavy fleece that covered her and looked down. The left side of her face was fiery red, the same shade that Thor's own skin took on when he was in a fit of rage. Her left eye was the same warm blue as his. A ragged line, its edge like an unfinished puzzle, ran down the center of her face. On the other side of it she was the harsh violet that Loki took on when he himself was enraged. Her right eye was red, like Loki's. Both eyes burned into him as she waved her fists and yelled her anger at what she had just undergone. One fist caught him in the nose, making him laugh again in joy. 

"Loki, see? We have a daughter. She is perfect. Healthy and strong." He held her out. 

Loki turned his head away. "I am tired," he said. "I will see enough of it later." 

"Oh," Thor said, stunned. "Yes, of course." 

"She must be named and announced," Laufey said. 

Thor looked up. He had forgotten the king was there. "Loki, what would you like to name her?" he asked. 

"You do it," Loki said with a faint shrug. 

"Very well, if you wish. I am fond of the name Halja," he said. 

Thor could not help being taken aback by Loki's reaction to their daughter. He too had been ambivalent, of course; even had Loki's survival not been in question, Thor was far younger than he had hoped to be before taking on such a responsibility. Yet once he was holding her, looking down at her scrunched little face, he loved her. He had loved her the moment she had met his eyes. Surely it was exhaustion that was making Loki seem so indifferent. He would warm to her once he had slept. 

"She must eat," Sigurd said, taking her from Thor's arms and resting her on Loki's stomach. 

"I _said_ I'm tired!" Loki shouted, setting her into a renewed fit of screaming. 

"Perhaps this will be better done in privacy," Sigurd said quietly to Thor and Laufey. 

They rose and left together, sitting opposite each other in the waiting chamber. 

"It was not even a difficult birth," Laufey muttered to himself. Thor shivered. They could hear Sigurd speaking gently and Loki's voice, weak and pleading, and Halja still shrieking, and finally they all went silent. 

It was quiet for a time, and then Sigurd appeared in the doorway, nodding to them, and they rose and returned to Loki's side. 

"You may say goodbye. It is time for you to go," Laufey told Thor. 

Despite his exhaustion, Loki's eyes flared with anger. "What? I survived," he hissed. 

"The fact of your survival does not change the fact that he broke the laws. He is not to be executed. But he is not to remain above, either." 

" _I still need him._ " 

Laufey made a sound of exasperation. "You are an adult now. It is time to put away your wants and see to your child. Thor can send you all you need." 

"I am not leaving," Thor said heatedly. "I submitted to being held in the dungeons because I believed it was best for Loki that things be kept calm and peaceful, but you will _not_ send me from his side now. I will stay here and care for them and support Loki while he recovers." 

"It is not your place to decide what is best for my son," shouted Laufey. 

Thor's face turned as red as Halja's as he yelled back, his words burning with fury. "Nor is it yours! You are a fool if you think he cannot-" 

A needle slid into Thor's arm and he looked down at it, startled. He had just time to turn to the bed. "Loki," he said, and everything went black. 

Loki watched in horror as Thor sank to the floor. 

"What did you do?" he demanded. 

"A sedative only. Harmless, I promise you," Sigurd said. He held up the small vial for Loki to read the label. As though that meant something. 

"Give it to me, then, if it's so harmless." 

Laufey circled the bed to block Loki's view of the limp figure. "He must be expelled, by law, and you know as well as we that he would not have gone easily. It is not good for you to be so upset. You are getting yourself worked up over things that cannot be changed-" 

"I cannot trust any of you," Loki hissed. "If that is all it is, and it's so important I be kept _calm_ , then give it to me. I will certainly not become so any other way." 

Sigurd looked to Laufey, who shrugged helplessly. "If it is safe," he said. 

Loki watched as another syringe was filled and the solution pushed into his line. He felt a brief mad flare of hope that it wasn't safe after all, and then there was nothing. 

***** 

Thor couldn't tell quite when he woke up. It felt like he was caught in a maze of fabric, layers upon layers to unfold before he could escape and nowhere to put them. Even when he opened his eyes to the light it was like peering through layers of cheesecloth. The light was the dull orange of the torches used to illuminate the Below. He closed his lids against it as he struggled to pull together the threads of memory. He remembered a sharp sting in his arm - a needle - looking at the bed... _Loki._ It was over and Loki was alive, as was Halja. He shoved at the light sheets that covered him. It was hard to move his hands, as though he had sat upon them. 

"Thor," said a voice. He rolled his head to the side to find his mother sitting beside the bed. 

His tongue felt thick and it was difficult to answer. "I must go back," he managed. 

"You cannot. The gates will be closed to you," she said gently. 

Her words were like ice water. The double gates had been installed not long after the Jotuns came, serving as a reminder that their peoples remained independent. Yet the only time they had ever been closed was during the yearly ceremony, a test of the hinges wrapped in pomp and ritual. They had never, to Thor's knowledge, been _used_. And now if he approached, they would be. 

"I have to. Loki-" 

"We were told. Your father and I are to go visit soon, and I will bring you word of them both." 

"The gates are not so strong. With Mjolnir I made my path through solid stone. Wrought metal will be as nothing to us. I have grown mighty, Mother." 

"Then think of the well-being of the Jotuns!" Frigga said. Her voice had grown heated. "There are parties of Aesir even now crossing daily through that tunnel you made. Engineers are designing an irrigation system to use the bounty of the new realm. We still have seeds in storage from before the ice came. Some of them may be viable. We will have more bounty than we have dreamed, and if you push Laufey too far, he may end all contact between our peoples and every person in the Above will suffer for it. Tyr is doing all he can, but you must be patient." 

"They would die! They need us, he would not do that," Thor argued. 

"They chose to come. They can choose to leave. They have been away so long, the seas of Jotunheim are surely full of fish once again," she said. "Would you have Loki and your daughter taken to a far-flung realm because you could not restrain your passions?" 

Thor slumped, defeated. The last time he had failed to restrain his passions, Loki had nearly died for it. 

"Tell him I love him," he said hollowly. 

***** 

Loki woke to the sound of hushed voices in the outer room. He tried to blink the fuzziness out of his head. At least the baby had quit screaming. He had started to think it would only ever shut up when it was eating. Irksome thing. 

Sigurd's face loomed into view. "Odin and Frigga wait outside to see their grandchild. Might I ask them in?" 

Best have this over with, he decided. "Yes, I will see them," he said. He hurriedly rearranged his pillows so that he was sitting up when they came in. 

Odin stood like he didn't know what to do with his hands, while Frigga rushed to the bed and pulled him into her arms. "Oh, Loki, we were so worried about you," she said. "You are well? Sigurd said it was an easy birth." 

Loki glared at Sigurd over her shoulder, who shrugged and mouthed _it was_. "Well enough," he said. 

She leaned back and smoothed his hair with her warm hand. "Thor sends you his love," she said. He managed a smile. 

"We are very glad you are well," Odin said formally. 

"Thank you. That is Halja," Loki said, pointing to the crib piled high with blankets. 

"I can't resist a little peek, but we won't disturb her rest," Frigga said. 

Odin waited for her to fold the blankets back. Loki could see the shock on their faces. He understood. Its face was shocking, like paintings that had been torn apart and cobbled back together. Hideous creature, no wonder he had been so ill. And now he had years in which he had to look at it and look after it. The thought was exhausting. He needed sleep. This would be easier to bear were he not so tired. But the moment the visitors were gone, it started screaming again. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look what I found in my computer!
> 
> Updates might slow down a little, I hurt my wrist and typing too much seems to annoy it. I do hope to keep to the 3-a-week postings if I can.

Thor kept himself busy every waking moment, trying to bury his heartache beneath exhaustion. He worked in the new realm, lending his strength where it was most needed. The field nearest the pathway between worlds was good, rich dirt, ready for planting as soon as irrigation was put in. Weeks passed in a blur of hammering, chiseling away at the tunnel to make space for an aqueduct to run through next to the footpath. 

It did not look it, but the work demanded utter precision in every swing. The engineers gathered around, pointing at each place he was to strike next, telling him how much rock they wanted removed from each particular hit. While he was kept busy he could keep the pain somewhat at bay. 

The evenings were the worst. He would return from his labors and bathe, watching the layers of rock dust fall away in sluices of dull gray grime. He did not dine with his family, preferring to take his meals with him to the work site, grabbing bites of food when the engineers argued over where his next hit was to land. 

It was in bathing that the ache would come back in full force. It made him glad of his rank in a way he never had been before; the other workers had no privacy in cleaning themselves, but he could return to the royal palace and hide himself away. And then he would return to his rooms, and find the jars waiting. 

It was cruelty, to be forced to this so young. He and Loki should have had years yet, and it should have been marriages that changed the nature of their relationship. Though in truth, Thor could not conceive of a marriage now. He and Loki had lived on terms of intimacy such as few people had ever known. He knew full well that there was no other, not for him. 

When he had free time - which he tried to avoid, but his father ordered that he allow the other workers to have time with their families (and didn't _that_ sting, in itself) - he would linger by the gates, hoping to catch Tyr. 

The Jotun guards always looked uncomfortable, seeing him there waiting. Many of them had worked this post longer than Thor had been alive, and they used to welcome him when he came for visits, swinging him up onto their shoulders when he was young, bowing once he came of age. He knew it would have been a poor repayment for their kindness were he to rush the gates, but that was not what stopped him. His mother had chosen her words well, in persuading him to wait; anything less than the departure of the Jotuns would have been too small a threat. 

"Can't you make him see reason?" Thor would plead when he found Tyr. 

"I'm doing my best, lord. This is a matter of both ancient law and a father's heart, and I know little about either." 

"You know Laufey better than anyone. What hope have I of him listening to reason, if he will not hear it from you?" 

Tyr's eyes would fall to Mjolnir when Thor asked that. "I beg you, do nothing that will make him feel forced into something drastic." 

"And Loki? What news of him?" 

"Recovering well," he would say, avoiding Thor's gaze, and then he would remember something that needed doing. 

Frigga hunted him down in his chambers one evening. "If you ate with parents, you _might_ hear news," she told him. 

"I have been in no mood for company," he told her. "Have you news?" 

"Not news, exactly, but word." 

"Loki sends word?" Thor asked, excited. 

"He sends his love," she answered. 

Thor could always tells when his mother was lying. 

***** 

Frigga had always been cheerful on her visits before this one. That had been bad. This was worse. She wanted to talk about his feelings, as though simply having to live with them weren't enough. 

"You seem to take no joy in Halja," she began. 

He shrugged. "It is hard to take joy in unwanted things," he answered. Loki wondered if he might be able to shake off some of the bone-deep ache in his heart if only he were not so weary. He wanted just _one night_ in which she didn't cry and wake him. It was impossible to take joy in anything at all, feeling as he did. 

He thought it reasonable enough, but she would not let it go. "It worries me how you try to avoid her." 

"I fail at everything," he said. His voice was as hollow as his eyes, and it made her ache deep inside. "I can't run away properly - I can't even _die_ properly - how am I supposed to take care of her? It is foolish to expect anything but disaster." 

She was quiet long enough that he thought perhaps he had made her understand. Just when he was starting to relax, she spoke again. "Have you never wondered why Thor was an only child?" 

"No. I can't say I ever thought about it. I was as well. It was simply how it was," he said, frowning in confusion. 

Her face twisted as she spoke. "That is how it was for you because Laufey could bring himself to remarry after losing Farbauti. But it is not common to risk having no more than a single heir to a throne. Thor was meant to be the first of many, but when I had him, I felt like something broke inside of me. I had wanted him so much, and I loved him more than I had imagined possible, but I had these impulses that were... well. I can still remember the day I pictured myself throwing him out the window. After that I sent him away. I was too terrified to be around my own child, for fear of what I might do." 

"But I don't love Halja. I don't think I love anything. I've become a monster," he told her bleakly. 

"If you truly were a monster I very much doubt you would mind the thought of it," she answered. "This is not so uncommon as you might think, and you do not have to face it alone. Speak to Sigurd. We have medicines in the Below to treat this pain. I will bring you some if he has nothing." 

He stared at her. The thought of putting all of this into words was simply too much. It was hard enough with Frigga; she had taken him under her wing even before Farbauti's death, offering him the love and care of a second mother. He did not know Sigurd half so well. Nor did he like him. 

"Shall I speak to him for you?" she asked gently. 

He nodded. 

She patted him on the knee and rose. "I'll see him on my way out, and be back to visit you tomorrow." 

"Yes. Thank you," he said. 

***** 

Days blurred into weeks, passed in a flurry of stone chips and stone slurry. Each day Thor worked harder, trying to exhaust himself into forgetfulness. All it did was hasten the end of the project. He made one sharp final crack onto a carefully placed chisel and the water gushed through into the network of irrigation trenches that had been dug in wait. 

"We are so grateful to you, lord. This would have taken a year with any other at work than you." 

"What next is needed?" Thor demanded. 

They were taken aback. "Now it is the work of farmers. They will dig and plant and tend." 

Thor knew how to do those things. He knew what to plant here, how to tend it. "I will bring them good seeds," he said, and with a whirl of Mjolnir he was gone before they could protest. 

There had been a windstorm since they left. The bark sheet that formed their door, so carefully tended while this was their home, had been torn halfway off and beaten against the cabin walls. The structure itself was exactly as they had left it. The garden was already reverting to wildness, the carefully trained vines sprawling rampant and the cotton patch, which they had kept so carefully free of weeds, was now almost knee-deep in wild grass. 

He knelt and crawled inside. There were the finger paintings they had made with the berry juice, still held to the wall with thorns. The colors had dulled. If they had stayed here, they would have painted new ones with this year's berries. The berries were gone, now. 

There, on one side of the cabin, was the tidy array of Loki's pottery. One corner still had jugs full of cotton seeds. Hanging on the wall above were rough sacks with the last few slices of dried apples. Thor bit into one and threw it away. It seemed wrong that the fruit could still have the same sweetness without Loki here to share it. Their bed was still the same unmade mess it had been they day they left. Both had grown up accustomed to servants doing such tasks; once they came here they kept agreeing that they would do it themselves, but the plan never lasted more than three mornings. Thor curled up in it and held his ugly lumpy clothes and stared at the faded pictures. 

He stayed three days, fixing the door, weeding their garden, swimming where they had swum. He had not meant to stay so long, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving it how it had been when he arrived. It had not looked like a home. When he returned it was to a relieved mother and an angry father and a crowd of farmers grateful for the cotton seeds and sweet potato starts. 

***** 

Loki had been allowed to move back to his room a week after Halja arrived. She had a cradle in the corner, where his desk had once been. There could hardly have been a more blatant reminder of what his life had become: study and intellect replaced by drudgery and duty. The nurses kept her clean and distracted for times during the day, but he was never free of her. Sigurd had told Laufey that it would be best if Loki fed her, considering her unique biology. When Loki argued he failed. Of course he did. 

He took his medicines obediently. Anything to stop himself from becoming an even bigger failure. He had been warned that they took time to take effect. So he took them, and he ate his food, and he used his jars, and he fed Halja. He would look at her as she slept and think of Frigga wanting to throw Thor out the window. He found that he didn't care enough about her - for good _or_ ill - to even want to give her that much effort. 

But then the medicines began to work. And Loki began to care. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time for waiting is at an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, I know, but I couldn't resist stopping where I did.

The first thing Loki found himself caring about, naturally enough, was Thor. The awareness gave him a start. One of the nurses had taken Halja for a walk, and Loki had run himself a bath. The tub was large enough to settle into it fully, and as he lay back his head to float on the surface, his hair swirled in the lingering eddies. Memory crashed into him, pale, golden. He had passed weeks upon weeks feeling as though he were submerged in a cloud of gray, the only breaks in the sickening monotony when anger would strike him like a bolt of blood-red out of nowhere. But now this feeling was taking him to their pool, where he and Thor used to float and watch the sky as it began to purple. He couldn't say that it didn't hurt, but it was good to feel it, all the same. 

He said nothing to anyone, afraid that this was no more than a new and cruel whim of his mind. But then he noticed that the anger was beginning to soften. It was in the middle of one night that the realization came. He was on his feet and halfway to Halja's crib to soothe her cries before it struck him that he was acting from care rather than irritation. "Poor little thing," he said, putting her over his shoulder. "We are both prisoners of all this. We must look after one another." 

Laufey's surprise when Loki appeared at breakfast was palpable. Loki was equally surprised to see Tyr still there. Loki and Tyr nodded to each other graciously, Tyr tilting his head slightly towards Laufey and flaring his eyes. 

"Father," Loki said, nodding to Laufey as he took his seat. 

"Loki," Laufey answered, nodding in return. "I am glad you are feeling well enough to join us." 

Loki ignored it. "I will be brief," he said. "Tell me plainly what is the status of the negotiations with the Aesir?" 

Laufey leaned back in his chair. "It is as I keep telling Tyr," he said, glancing across the table, "there is little to negotiate. Thor violated the laws, and he is banned from the Above." 

"But you are _king_ ," Loki hissed. 

"It is more of a burden than a liberty, my son," he sighed. 

Loki looked at Tyr, who was watching Laufey with an exasperated fondness, and found himself wondering what was there in his father to inspire fondness from anyone. Memory? Had Laufey been different when they were young together? It was hard to believe Laufey had ever been young. 

"Then I will go," Loki said, pushing away his untouched plate. "You can't stop me." 

At last Tyr spoke. "You broke the laws as well, lord," he said. 

Loki froze in midstep. "This is madness," he said. "We are to be kings together, and we cannot see each other? Do you even hear yourselves?" 

"There is space enough between the gates to make you a meeting room. I am trying to get both parties to agree to build it," Tyr said. 

"I will not agree either. It is ludicrous! Surely you must see that?" 

"It is the only solution I can find, lord." 

"The solution is right before everyone's faces, if only you will _look_!" 

"Loki," Laufey said, in that horrible tone of voice he had that said _I'm the one being reasonable_ , but Loki was gone before he heard the rest. 

He spent the rest of the day in his room, reading. The servants brought his meals. In the evening they closed his curtains and turned down his bed and put Halja into her cradle. 

When he finished his book he was still far too angry to sleep. A skim of his shelves found only titles he had read many times and felt no pull to read again. He shoved back the curtains and sat in his window seat, watching how the twinkling starlight danced across the snow. The last fall had been over a week ago, and in the day, it looked gray and dull with footprints. Now, though, there was just enough light to see what beauty remained. 

Another memory came, one from long ago. It was one of Thor's visits. Loki couldn't remember how old they were, but it was before they were old enough for Thor to come unattended. There had been no new fall for ages that long-ago day, and the two boys had taken advantage of their guards' momentary distraction to slip away and out of the palace. They had wandered for hours, hand in hand, Loki pumping his little legs to keep up with Thor's longer gait. It wasn't until they were nearly back at the palace, ready for their dinners, that they were found. There had been an uproar, both heirs missing and the snow far too trodden for tracking. 

In the distance, the stars began to disappear into blackness. Clouds. A storm front moving in, bringing a fresh blanket of snow. That would be pretty. Perhaps he would bundle Halja up tomorrow and take her for a walk. Anything to get out of the palace, out of this haze of oppression that permeated its halls. 

His mind wandered back to the morning. His father's stubbornness, Tyr's obtuseness. And Odin, it seemed, was no better. So many foolish old men. It was terrifying to think that one day he and Thor might be the same. 

Halja gurgled and he rose to get her. Sleep was already a lost cause, with the mood he was in. He may as well try to make one of them happy. He expected her to fall back asleep in his arms, but she lay there, staring up at him expectantly. 

"What do you want?" he murmured. "You can't be hungry again already. Shall I tell you a story?" 

She reached for his nose. 

"I'll take that as a yes. Very well," he told her. And perhaps it was thinking of Thor, or perhaps it was simply the thought of wandering free, that put the story into his mind. 

"Once upon a time, long ago before the ice came, there was a farmer..." 

She seemed to be made content by the sound of his voice. That was actually rather sweet, he realized. He kept talking after she drifted off, finishing the tale. He looked up from the fat little figure in his arms, back out the window. 

The gates were not the only way. 

The Below was labyrinthine. He passed another hour with sightless eyes upon the shining snow as his mind walked the paths from the gates to the hall of the traders, mapping each bend and turn onto the land above. He couldn't estimate the distance, but he was reasonably sure that the original entrance lay to the southwest of the palace. 

He had done this before. He could do it again. 

He rose and dressed Halja, moving quickly. They had to go before the arrival of the fresh snow. He would find the way, and he would find Thor, and they would go home. 

The palace was dark and quiet as he slipped through its halls. The old servants' stairs, from the time when the Aesir lived here, were not far from his room. They were too small for most Jotuns, and fell into disuse when the palace had no children. But Loki was still smaller than most of his people. He could fit. It led him to the hall near the kitchens. It was only a matter of a few yards to the door where the farmers delivered their goods. 

Two yards, then one. He slipped outside and pulled the door shut behind him into the covered yard with a sigh of relief. 

Just when he thought he was safely away, a guard stepped into the archway. 

"Lord," said the guard. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was some posting wonkiness, so if you're following but not subscribed, you may have missed chapter 18. Otherwise, scroll on down, I put a long blank space before this one starts, since the beginning of this one would be a spoiler.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loki eyed him warily.

"Lord," the guard said again, more softly. "You are not alone, you know. You have friends."

"I find that most unlikely," Loki answered.

"But you do. So very many of us are discontent. We do not wish to be disloyal - we _are_ loyal - but part of that loyalty is seeing clearly when things cannot continue as they have been. Our culture has grown... calcified, I think. We are bound by laws and ways that have twisted and bent as they grew. You have a friend in all who suffer under this."

"Send them my regards," Loki said, trying to shove past the thick body that blocked the archway.

"You have the power to help your people. Not someday, not when you inherit the crown, _now._ And you would abandon them?"

"And what would you have me do?"

"We are trained in war. What we lack is one who has been trained in planning, in strategy. What we need is a leader. And I tell you again, we are loyal."

"A rebellion. You wish me to lead a rebellion against my father?"

The guard knelt to him, as was done only to kings. "We wish to follow you into a better future."

Loki gazed down on the figure before him. He didn't want to do this. What he wanted was to find the way into the Below, find Thor, and go home. His father's words - _this is more a burden than a freedom_ \- began to make sense. "How many rebels do we have?" he asked.

*****

Geir took him to their meeting place, a secret room hidden away in the back of a carpenter's workshop. He bustled around - dragging the best chair nearer the small heater that was all they could use without fear of smoke being seen, fluffing the cushion - until Loki interrupted him. "I lived in a tent," he pointed out.

"Oh. Yes, of course. We've never had a highborn visitor before."

"I am fine," Loki said, sitting down.

Geir bowed his head. "If you are comfortable, I will go and collect the others who live nearby, and we can tell you of what we have done so far."

Loki picked idly at his nails while he waited. He still did not wish to be here, doing this, when he could be with Thor... but he had to admit one thing.

After so much running, it felt good to turn and fight.

 

Geir returned with six others. "Lord, these are Ove, Alva, Steen, Erlend, Kjeld, and Vidar."

They bowed to him as he nodded his greetings. Steen was a giant among giants, towering over the others. He bore nothing of the gentle giant about him, either; he was hard and covered in scars. Erlend and Kjeld were significantly older, and while Kjeld seemed to be jolly, Erlend had seriousness enough for them both. The others drew back, giving precedence.

"I brought a cradle for the little one," said Ove. "Imagine. Us with a princess."

"I'll wager she seems little enough like one when she's hungry in the depth of night," said Vidar.

"Indeed, she does not," Loki agreed. He tucked her into the little bed. It was crude, compared to the one back in the palace, but she fell asleep quickly enough all the same. "I expect they're all alike, really."

Kjeld and Erlend met each others gazes with understanding smiles.

"Or not," Loki added.

"You'll see, once you have more," he was told.

"One is really quite enough," Loki told them. "Now tell me everything about this group I have joined."

"Geir was the one who brought us together. He should have the honor of telling."

Geir spoke for hours, describing how the common people had grown slowly more disillusioned with their way of life over the past generations. The Jotun population had grown more quickly than had that of the Aesir, and what once had been bounty enough for all now left everyone but the nobility feeling always on the edge of exhaustion. Had all shared equally in this state of constant half-deprivation, they were sure, the Jotuns would have gone to another realm ages ago, or the scientists would have been set to the task of finding a solution. But Loki's family, and the peers of the realm, continued to live in comfort, and so nothing was done.

"And now you must share with me, as well. I am sorry for that," Loki said.

"It is an honor," they assured him.

"But that is not what really began this," Alva said, smiling at Geir, who blushed.

"I... I fell in love," he said. "The Aesir woman who brings our supplies from the Below has sharp eyes and a sharper wit and I ached at the divide between our peoples."

"Then you truly are my friend," Loki said softly.

"Aye, lord," he answered.

It would take time, two or three weeks most likely, before all the rebels could return to the capital. "If too many came at once, it would all be given away," Ove explained.

Loki frowned. "I thought this movement was supported by the people," he said.

"The dissatisfaction is felt by every one of us," Steen told him. "The active band is still small."

They went home to begin their days unrested.

*****

Frigga was waiting for Thor when he returned from a day spent wandering in the new realm. "Thor, we must tell you something," she began with a sad smile. He sat down and waited for her to speak. "Loki has disappeared again. He has taken Halja, and they cannot be found."

"He is coming here!" Thor said, springing to his feet.

"My dear, no," she said, taking his hands in hers. "The gates are closed to him, as are those of the Above to you. He must have gone into the ice wastes."

Thor tried to look solemn, but he remembered telling Loki of the first way down. Loki was small, he would fit. And Thor would find him as he crept through the passages, and they would be together.

He spent four days barely leaving the hall of the traders, wandering from store to store and buying nothing. Four days in which every second was spent thinking of Loki, longing for Loki. And Loki didn't come.

On the fifth day, Thor thought of his mother telling him that Loki sent his love. The lie in her eyes when she spoke.

On the fifth day, he stopped hoping.

*****

Loki's inner circle snuck back whenever they could, bringing food, books, and whatever news they could hear.

"I have brought-" Vidar said awkwardly, holding out a jar.

Loki glanced away. "I am well. I will not take until I have need."

And that was what really caught their attention as the days went by. Loki had no need.

"I did before," he said, puzzled.

"What happened?" Geir asked. He turned to look at Halja.

"Yes," Loki said slowly. The image of red drops swirling into his arm drip filled his eyes. "Geir. Can you capture Sigurd? Bring him here?"

"You know, don't you?"

"I think I may know enough."

It was four days before they managed to bring Sigurd, bound and gagged, to the meeting room. His eyes widened when he saw Loki. Loki put a knife to his throat. "If you yell, or raise any kind of alarm, you will die," he said. "Blink once if you understand."

Sigurd blinked.

"Very good," Loki said. Someone - there were too many for him to remember names now - pulled the gag away and Sigurd coughed and worked his jaw.

"Tell me why I no longer require sustenance from the Below," Loki demanded. Loki had read stories in which people's jaws dropped in shock, but never before had he seen it. "You do not know? You know nothing?"

"I... I may have an idea."

Loki pressed the point of the knife against his neck. "Talk."

"Please! I didn't know, I didn't even guess. But I can think of no other reason than one."

"Speak it, then, and cease this babbling," Erlend said, giving him a rough shake.

"When you were at your worst," Sigurd said, speaking to Loki and ignoring the rest of the room, "I took some of Thor's blood to examine. I found on the outside of his red cells a protein marker that we do not have. I thought, if he had passed it on, your body might view the- her highness," he said with a glance at the cradle, "as an invader - an allergen, if you will - and that you fell ill from this. I took some of your red cells and some of his, and put his markers onto your cells and gave them back to you. My hope was that since they were yours that your body would not reject them, but that your system would no longer view those protein markers as foreign."

"What has this to do with my needs now?" Loki demanded.

"I... something to do with giving you Aesir blood. That is all I can say without further study."

"You will tell Geir what you need to repeat this, and he will bring it from the palace."

"Lord, I only did it because I knew you would die otherwise. But to do such an experiment on a healthy person..."

"I volunteer." Geir stood up. "I will ask Sif if she will share her blood with us." A smile ghosted over his face as he said her name, making Loki smile in turn.

*****

"I know you have been through much, but it is not well for you to dwell so on what cannot be changed, my son," Odin said.

Thor glared at him.

"You need to rejoin society. Start to meet the young ladies of your own age," Frigga added.

"You cannot be thinking of a marriage for me, so soon," Thor objected.

Odin shook his head. "Not yet, of course. But would you not prefer to make friends with these girls before it is time to choose among them? You will after all need an heir, and-"

"I have an heir," Thor said.

"Halja has already been claimed for the Jotun throne," Odin said.

"And I claim her for ours."

"Thor, think. This is not how things work," Frigga said.

"I have an heir," he repeated.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter - enjoy!

"You do not mind the needle?" Sigurd asked. 

"Of course not," Sif said. She sounded puzzled. 

"Very well. They say that women-" 

"They say many things about women which you would be wiser not to believe," she told him. 

It had taken Geir over a week to collect everything he needed and smuggle it away from the palace. Some of the guards were sympathetic, but there were others he was not prepared to trust. The process was further slowed by Geir sometimes bringing the wrong equipment. Sigurd snapped at him until Loki intervened. "If your descriptions were more precise, he would have brought what you wanted," he said. His voice was quiet and serpentine, as though his words could curl around Sigurd's leg and sink in their teeth. 

When the time came for Sigurd to alter Geir's blood with Sif's, Sif stood behind him and watched him without blinking. 

"I know quite well what will happen to me if he does not survive, you know," Sigurd said, almost conversationally. 

"And I will be the one to do it," Sif said. She wore Geir's sword proudly, though she did have to wrap the belt twice about her waist. Her hand never left the hilt as the infusion dripped in. 

"There. We should know by nightfall whether I have committed murder," Sigurd said. 

Loki's glance at him was sharp. "It matters to you, doesn't it," he murmured. 

"More than to you, it seems." 

Steen growled and stepped forwards. "Respect," he growled. 

Geir broke the tension. "Might I have this out now?" he asked, raising his arm slightly. 

"I would prefer you keep it until I know your body has accepted this. If you react poorly, having that in place will save me valuable seconds." 

Geir snorted, and Sigurd turned to Sif. "Death can occur in half that." 

She looked at Geir. "It stays." He did not argue. 

For perhaps two hours near dusk it seemed worrisome - Geir complained of itching and dizziness, but cold wet towels on his face and arms helped - and by dark he was better. Sigurd heaved a sigh as he removed the drip. "It at least didn't kill him," he said. Sif remained until dawn, when her tasks called her back. 

A week passed with Sigurd feeling no need. It was a success. 

"How does it work?" Loki demanded again, hissing at the healer. 

"I do not _know!_ Trust me, I wish I did!" 

"How do you find out?" 

Sigurd shrugged. "A marrow sample might help. He would not be able fight for you, though. He would need to rest and heal." 

Sif rose to her feet. "I will fight in his place," he said. 

"My love, you are so small-" Geir began. 

"Think of your armor," she interrupted. "How well does it protect you from one of my height?" 

"She is right," Erlend said. "Her sword will go up and in." 

"But-" Geir said. 

"Will you have me in your company?" she asked, turning to Loki. 

He looked at her. He was small beside his people; she was small beside him. By any sensible measure she should have wanted to stay as far from the battle as she possibly could, and yet here she was, her eyes burning with the desire for it. "It would be my honor." 

***** 

The room was packed. There were far too many people, clustering around Geir as he slowly woke, doting upon Halja, watching Sigurd as he spent what felt like an eternity studying the sample. Loki sat with his back to all of them, sketching inscrutable patterns across the maps that had been stolen for him. 

"It took," Sigurd said quietly. Only those nearest him heard his words. 

"It took!" Kjeld said. He had a voice that did not go so easily missed. 

"Explain it," Loki said, rising from his desk. 

"He's producing it himself, now. You must be, as well," Sigurd answered. 

"After a single treatment?" 

Sigurd shrugged and moved away from his makeshift bench. "See for yourself," he said, gesturing at the microscope. Loki peered in, comparing what he saw to the images in the book that lay open. "It's changed," he said, awed. 

"Exactly." 

Loki's voice snapped from wonder to authority. "All my troops. Ove, you will be in charge. I want all who wish for this to be treated within the week." 

***** 

Sif brought other Aesir with her each day when she returned. There were more than enough willing to sell the small amounts of blood needed. She cautioned them to secrecy, but back in the Below, hushed conversations fell silent at her approach and told her the way of things. She stared at the whisperers and dragged her thumb idly down the hilt of her new dagger. 

Loki gave over every moment of the day to planning. The leaders of the battalions reported to him, one after the next, to receive their orders. Between their visits he was ever found leaning over more maps, measuring distances and checking angles. The strike on the palace would take place at dawn, one week after the last treatments had been given. It was exhausting and invigorating in ways he had never known. 

Nights he gave to quietness. He held Halja, and fed her, and whispered to her of Thor. "He will love you," he promised. 

Sif had come to sit next to him, waiting for Geir to return from his regular shift at the palace. Each night he reported back. There were no rumors of Loki remaining in the capital. There were no changes in the guards' days. There were no signs that they expected attack. 

"Lord, I have word I feel I must tell you, though I am loathe," she said in a low voice. 

"Thor?" 

Her head bowed. "There is... the realm you found, it is being developed and farmed. He has gone to live there. There are whispers that he no longer waits for you." 

A dagger would have been kinder by far. "I thank you for telling me," he said. His throat was dry. It hurt to speak. 

"I am so sorry to cause you pain. I did it now that it not strike you with its newness on the day of your triumph. I hope I did not do wrong." 

He shook his head. _No._ No, she did not do wrong. He had an heir. He had a good council in these first few rebels whom Geir had brought together. Now he had no reason to hold himself back in battle. His side would win and if he fell, it would be kinder than if he did not. His daughter would have excellent regents until she came of age. 

***** 

Thor heard whispers among the farmers. He ignored them, day by day, until they could be ignored no more. "What is this you speak of, about the Jotuns?" he demanded. 

One of them - Mads, Thor thought, but was not sure - flushed an even deeper red than the strong good sun had made him. "My sister, lord. Her work takes her to the Above, and she says that they have found a way to make it so they do not need us. Imagine, if you had not found this land when you did. We would all have starved." 

Thor tried to be glad for them. Oh, he tried. But all he could see were the gates, closed, forever. 

***** 

The battle for the city began half an hour before dawn. The rebels slipped through the dark streets to take silent stances behind the guards who waited at their posts, ready for the day to send its icy rays and fresh replacements. When a whistle broke the bitter air, a hundred truncheons came down as one. 

This fight took only a single day, and in the end Loki's troops were scarcely needed. The people had heard of the treatment known by the rebels, and they drove the king's guards out of the streets with all they had at hand. Rocks flew through the air. Iron skillets. Kitchen knives, not suited to throwing but thrown all the same. Loki promised the treatment to all, with his new soldiers first in line. 

The battle for the palace took a week. Laufey's loyal guard pulled back and held the defenses until the blockade forced them into bitter exhaustion. Loki was at the front of his forces, a slight figure against the rest but his bearing leaving no doubt of his authority. "There will be no retaliation against those who surrender peacefully," he announced on the sixth day of the siege. His voice echoed through the icen keep and pealed into the palace itself, carrying his words to the throne. Half of those who yet defended their king staggered out. Three collapsed before they even reached the line of Loki's fighters. 

Loki had made his camp opposite the high heavy doors that had always before stood open in welcome. The seventh day, he was woken by the screaming of frozen hinges and he scrambled from his tent to find his father walking out alone. He looked older, and so tired one might have thought he slept not a single night since Loki's disappearance. He looked at his son from hollow eyes. Loki fought to keep a level gaze as they walked towards each other. 

"My son," he said. Even his voice was weak. 

"Father." 

Laufey's hands shook as he raised them. The ice circlet that had graced his hair for all of Loki's memory faded away in a wisp of steam, and Loki felt the weight settle upon himself. 

"You may still live here," Loki said softly, but Laufey shook his head. 

"You cannot know how much I long to be away," he answered. With the last of his strength, he raised his head to face Loki's warriors. "Hail, Loki king!" he cried, and the ground shook with the might of their answer. 

***** 

"Lord! Lord! You are summoned. The Jotun army approaches," cried a half-grown page. She stood nearly doubled over gasping for air. 

"You did well," he told her, and with a swing of his hammer he was gone. 

The area behind the gates was a poor space, meant for movement, not defense. The Aesir troops needed to engage on open ground, if they were to defend the Below. 

"Let me through," he ordered. 

"The gates are closed," said the Jotun guards. Their attention was scattered, half looking at him, half looking nervously towards the city. 

"Let me _through!_ " Thor shouted. The first strike of Mjolnir shook the gates in their hinges. He struck again, and again, and a third time before the sounds of marching filled his ears. He looked up to find a regiment, a huge mass of Jotuns in all manner of dress, approaching. He watched them, waiting. 

"Open the gates," said the huge scarred Jotun at the front. 

"We are ordered to defend them." 

"You are the king's guard. Stand down before the king," ordered another. 

The ragtag soldiers parted and Thor forgot how to breathe as Loki passed between them, a circlet of ice glinting on his hair. 

"Stand down before the king," Loki told them again, and they stood down. 

"Loki," Thor whispered. 

The scarred Jotun came forward and snatched the key from the hand of one of the defeated guards. He opened the gate. His eyes burned into Thor's skin before he moved away. 

Thor took a single step towards Loki. Loki looked older, worn with the battle but strong and powerful. He had longed for this moment, dreamed and wept and fought for it, and now that it was here, he did not even know if Loki still felt for him. "Loki. I have missed you, so very much," he said. 

Loki met his eyes. "You have received news of events in the Above?" he asked. 

"I have." 

"Then you know that my kind does not need yours any longer." 

Thor wrapped an iron hand around his heart to hold the pieces together. He would allow the shards to fall once he was alone. "I know, and I am happy for you," he said. 

"And I have heard of your expansion into the new realm. You don't need us, either." 

"No, I suppose we don't." 

Thor looked so sad that Loki could have shattered like dry clay. He had suffered so much on Loki's behalf. And yet now, because of the two of them together, no one from either of their peoples would suffer so again. Biology was no longer destiny; every one of them would be free to love and be loved just as they chose. Loki stepped forward, filling the space that Thor had left between them - so easy to read, Thor, his heart an open book - and for the first time in what felt like years he smiled. "I don't need you anymore. I am yours because I want to be. And that... Thor, it is _so_ much better." 


End file.
